


Lego House

by teaandtumblr



Series: Flour and Chocolate [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Louis bitches like normal, M/M, Mentions of Louis and Harry, Niall is the good friend, Panic Attacks, Post Break-up, Reconciliation, Sassy Harry, liam is pure sunshine, partner to Flour and Chocolate, past Liam/Zayn, sidestory, zayn gets his shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandtumblr/pseuds/teaandtumblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn't knocked the house down on accident, he hadn't accidentally stepped on it. No, he'd torn it apart, sent the pieces flying. But that didn't mean he couldn't fix it. Or at least, didn't mean he couldn't <em>try</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I had a scene for _Flour and Chocolate_ that wouldn't leave me alone but I didn't want to write a sequel. My mind then took the idea and ran with it and bam! - now this exists??? Hopefully you enjoy it!

Liam would forever refer to it as the worst day of his life. A couple of others came close – i.e. some of the numerous hospital trips he’d had as a child, Zayn breaking up with him, Zayn breaking up with him _for good_ – but this one took the cake. This one was above and beyond every one of those because while it had started with a mountain of missed calls on his phone and an army of messages in his inbox, it had descended into hell the second Liam had pressed dial on Harry’s contact – since he was behind the majority of the phone calls – and been presented with two short, sharp sentences:

_Louis’ in hospital._  
_He might not make it._

Fuck.

Swerving out of the entrance of the tube station closest to his work, Liam hailed a taxi frantically, all but leaping into the back.

“Harry, where?”

_“St. Mary’s Hospital.”_

Liam tried his very best to not think about how shaky Harry’s voice was as he passed the address onto the driver. He’d rarely seen or heard Harry stressed in the nine months he’d known him but Liam was also sure that new _fiancé_ plus _hospital_ equalled a pretty good reason. He ran a hand down his face. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

“Harry,” he eventually managed to gasp. “What…what happened?”

Harry croaked out an “I…” before he dissolved into tears. There was some swearing and different crying – higher pitched, less controlled…Georgia… _fuck!_ – and then there was a new voice:

_“This Liam?”_

_“Niall!”_ Liam cried, blinking back tears. “Please Ni’, what’s…what’s…”

 _“Liam, lad, calm down,”_ Niall coached, though he honestly didn’t sound any better. _“I’ll take you from the start. The bakery got a phone call from the school, saying Georgia hadn’t been picked up yet and that they couldn’t get a hold of you or Louis. Georgia told them to try Harry and that worked, like, we came and got her but we couldn’t get a hold of Louis. And Harry was trying and trying…”_

Niall hesitated but that was the last thing Liam wanted. “No, Niall _please_ ,” he begged, ignoring the odd look that earnt from the taxi driver in response. “Please, tell me.”

There was a deep sigh and a couple more muttered profanities. _“Alright then, so Harry kept calling Louis and eventually someone picked up. Only it weren’t Louis, it was some ambulance technician. They said…You know how Louis’ been working at that property?”_ Liam nodded but before he could think to add words Niall continued on. _“Well something – or rather several somethings – gave way and the framework collapsed. Louis…Li’, he got caught under it all.”_

“ _No_ ,” Liam whimpered, gripping the phone so, so tight.

_“Liam, I’m sorry. Lucky Lou’ had people on site with him and they called up straight away. Took awhile to get him out but, uh…his chest…it’s pretty messed up. Basically he crushed his ribs.”_

Seeing the taxi take a left turn, Liam sent a prayer skyward. “Niall, I’m at the door. I’m coming.”

Hanging up, Liam swiped his card through the machine and then quite literally threw himself out of the vehicle, jogging down the hospital’s side until he reached the A&E. Niall, bless him, was hopping from foot to foot just outside the door, sprinting over when he saw him and encasing Liam in a bear-hug. Liam hunched over, burying his head into Niall’s neck and not giving a damn that Niall was scrunching up his suit something terrible.

“’s alright,” Niall was murmuring, “It’s going to be alright. Louis’ strong, he’s got this.”

Liam pulled away with a sniffle, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and doing his best to pull himself together. “Yeah, he is. How’s Harry? And Georgia?” he demanded as they stepped inside. He really needn’t’ve asked because no sooner had he crossed the threshold than a body was colliding with his.

_“Liam!”_

His name was a wail and Liam scooped Georgia into his arms despite the fact that she was seven and a half and most certainly too big for this. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck. Her body wracked with tiny sobs and Liam held her as tight as he could. A hand came to rest next to his on Georgia’s back and another was placed on his back as Harry folded himself around them.

“Liam…”

“Oh Harry.” Harry let out a whine and Liam adjusted his hold on Georgia so he could also slip an arm around Harry. “Come on Harry, we can do this. Be strong for Lou’, yeah? He wouldn’t go down without a fight.”

“No he wouldn’t,” Harry agreed, petting Georgia’s hair before forcing himself away. “Can you hold her for a bit? I…” he pointed to the bathrooms and then shook his head. “No, I need to call Jay. Can you hold her while I do that? She doesn’t…”

Doesn’t need to see me become a blubbering mess.

 _Possibly again,_ Liam thought to tack on because God only knew how crazy this evening had been up until now.

He nodded in reply to Harry’s question and watched him shuffle away, half-tempted to run over anyway when he saw Harry slump against a wall, folding over as he cried, words tumbling out of his mouth and into the phone pressed to his ear. Niall was watching him just as worriedly, waiting for Harry to hang up and disappear into the bathroom before following. Hoisting Georgia up a little higher in his lap, Liam ran his fingers soothingly through her curls.

_“Lavenders blue, dilly dilly_  
_Lavenders green_

_“When I am king, dilly dilly_  
_You shall be queen.”_

Georgia made the tiniest noise of contentment as she looked up at him with big blue eyes. “I love that song,” she confessed, knotting her hands together before slumping down against his chest. “But no one sings it anymore because it was Zaynie’s song.” Liam tensed and the girl sighed heavily. “It’s okay Liam, you don’t have to sing it. I know it’ll make you sad.”

Liam swallowed thickly because she was right but it _hurt_ that she was because it was _her_ song; not Zayn’s, not his, hers. Liam’s eyes suddenly widened. Shit. _Zayn_.

Niall and Harry shuffled back and Liam waited barely a second before excusing himself, passing Georgia to Harry and assuring them he’d be back soon. A pair of troubled eyes followed him but he didn’t care, striding purposefully to the door before stepping to the side. Liam scrolled down the contacts in his phone before hovering over one for so long that the screen darkened and then switched off altogether. The action spurred Liam into motion and he angrily unlocked the device once more, pressing his thumb to the name with more pressure than necessary. He could honestly say he was shocked when the phone was picked up but that didn’t mean he was too shocked to jump in, jump in first before the person on the other end even had a chance to breathe.

“You hang up on me and it’ll be the last thing you ever do. Fuck us and get to St Mary’s Hospital _now_. It’s Louis.”

 

***

 

Thanking the doctor one last time, Harry wearily trudged back to where Niall was sitting, Georgia precariously balanced on his lap as she dozed fitfully. At Niall’s questioning gaze, he nodded, the barest of smiles appearing. “Thank fuck,” Niall breathed, eyes sinking shut in relief.

Harry ran a hand through his hair shakily, feeling as if he’d just run a marathon. “Yeah, he’s…The doctor didn’t say _all clear_ but…they patched him up Niall; Louis made it through surgery. Every hour from here on out is a bigger chance he’ll make it.”

“He’ll make it.”

It wasn’t a question and Harry knew it, choosing to nod instead. He looked around with a frown and then he actually _did_ have a question. “Where’s Liam?”

“Um, outside?” Niall offered, looking just as perplexed.

Harry’s frown only deepened. “He still out there? Jesus, that’s…that’s a long time.”

“Well, to be fair, he’s known Louis over eight years,” Niall pointed out, managing to get to his feet without waking Georgia. “I think it probably hit him harder than it hit us, no matter how much you love Louis.”

Harry nodded slowly as he headed past reception, intending to say ‘goodbye’ to Liam and filling him in before heading up to Louis’ room. “Still,” he continued as they passed through the automatic doors, “I thought he would have stuck around to see…”

Harry petered off as incredulity slammed into him, Niall swerving to avoid him before he too pulled up abruptly. Wide blue eyes flew between Harry and the two people intertwined on the bench because… “Isn’t that…?”

Even though Liam’s body was obscuring most of the other person, Harry knew who it was; knew it as well as Niall did. Because of course there was only one person Liam would call and _maybe_ he had a right to be there, maybe he’d spent years around Louis too, but that’d didn’t mean this was okay. Didn’t mean he could be there hugging Liam, comforting him, whispering soothingly into his ear, stroking his back softly because he…

_“Zayn.”_

Harry’s tone surprised even _him_ by how clipped it was. Any thought he had of taking it back though was abandoned the second that Zayn, in contrast to Liam’s guilty look, sent him an impatient one. “Harry.”

“ _Harry_ ,” Liam pleaded, looking all too frightened the Harry would scare his ex away. “ _Please_. I asked Zayn here. He…he’s known Louis a long time and…he had a right to know. It’s his friend too.”

“Was,” Harry corrected coldly. “Zayn _was_ Louis’ friend. They haven’t spoken since January.”

“Actually, we spoke when you two got engaged,” Zayn corrected and in an instant he went from haughty to meek and it made Harry wonder if he’d ever been bold at all or whether he’d just been hiding behind an attitude because it was easier. “And…Look, everyone here knows just how much I fucked up. And no, Georgia’s asleep,” Zayn said when Harry went to scold him. “I checked. But this isn’t about any of us. This is about _Louis_. And no matter how much shit went down between us, I think living together for seven years warrants a _phone call_ when he’s _dying_.”

And, holy shit, he was actually _crying_. Or rather, tears were escaping and Zayn was wiping them away as quickly as they fell and, for better or for worse, Harry felt his heart soften. Zayn didn’t let Liam comfort him which made it clear to Harry _who_ had instigated it last time, but his eyes did desperately seek out Harry’s, the question in them so obvious.

“Pretty sure he’s not dying,” Harry answered, watching the pair collapse into each other, Zayn burying his face in his hands while Liam’s forehead came to rest on the base of his neck. If Harry hadn’t known all the shit that had gone on between them, he would have found it endearing. Instead, he found it highly concerning. But Harry pushed that aside, coming to crouch in front of Liam. “They think he’ll pull through.”

“ _Think?_ ” Liam squeaked, body shuddering alarmingly.

Harry grimaced, placing a hand on Liam’s knee. “Sixty percent chance he’ll pull through. There are worse odds Liam.”

“There are better ones too,” he bemoaned, whining when Zayn moved, thus dislodging him. “ _Zayn_ …”

“Sixty percent is better than I was expecting.” Zayn’s tone was blunt enough to startle Liam, his eyes whipping up. “And it’s more than enough for Lou’. So now, get up, get home, and get some sleep.” He pointed to the hospital. “You’re gonna have to be coherent if you’re coming back here tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Liam stumbled over the word, looking between Zayn and Harry in alarm. “Tomorrow? Can’t I? I…”

Harry shrunk in on himself. “Sorry Liam but they said only one and I…”

“No, of course.” Liam jumped up quickly, taking Harry’s hands in his. “You stay with Louis. He needs you. He’d want you.” He shuffled over to Niall, holding his arms out pathetically. “Georgia…Can I take her?”

Niall smiled sadly, handing her over and trying not to reveal how troubled he was when Liam all but moulded around her. “Take her home, okay? I’ll grab a coffee for Harry and join you later. Still got fucking work tomorrow,” he muttered as he stormed off in the direction of Paddington Station, hoping to find something open there.

Harry watched him go, thoughts so consumed that he didn’t notice the quiet exchange behind him until he heard Liam bidding him farewell. Harry turned to wave with a smile on his face only to have it drop immediately because Liam had since handed Georgia to Zayn and Zayn’s hand was lingering on his waist.

_Oh fuck no._

 

***

 

_“You, kitchen, now.”_

Those were the first words Liam heard upon having his pillow ripped out from under his head. Blearily turning his head to the side, Liam blinked up at Harry in confusion. The young man looked absolutely exhausted but there was also fury in his frame and…All too suddenly Liam became aware of the weight next to him, head snapping to the left and there, just as he’d suspected? dreaded? was Zayn. He wilted under Harry’s steely glare and nodded obediently.

Once Harry had grabbed some clothes from the wardrobe he shut the door behind him and Liam forced himself to sit up. He remembered having a near break down on the tube home, Zayn putting Georgia in his lap being the only thing that stopped him from panicking completely. He’d passed her back once they’d reached their stop, too weak to carry her, and had unlocked the door to the flat for Zayn. Liam had hesitated only a second before snagging Zayn on his way back down the hall after putting Georgia to bed, shoving him into Louis’ – well, Louis’ and Harry’s now, he supposed – room.

 

_“One night,” he begged. “No hugging, no touching. Just…company, please? I just need to feel like everything’s okay.”_

_Zayn pulled against his hold, shaking his head adamantly. “_ We’re _not okay.” He gestured between them furiously._

 _“I know!” Liam cried, hands flying into the air. “We’re a fucking mess Zayn but please…_ please _.”_

_At the sight of his tears, Zayn sighed. “Fine Liam. But one night. One. Night.”_

_“If it makes you feel any better,” Liam huffed as he threw himself down. “I wouldn’t want more than a night with you. We both know how those end.”_

_It was bitter and barbed and Zayn physically recoiled. His eyes burned with tears and Liam desperately wanted to take it back but Zayn slapped his hand away, forcefully toeing off his shoes and hurling himself onto the other side of the bed. “Fuck you Liam. Don’t touch me and just go to sleep mate.”_

_There was so much acid in the ‘_ mate’ _that it made Liam’s skill crawl but he agreed because_ he _was the one that had asked for this._ He _had asked and Zayn was giving in. And that…that was the first time Zayn had done that in a long, long time._

 

To their credit though, they hadn’t shuffled closer during the night, nothing incriminating to be held against them. Liam’s foot was resting against Zayn’s calf but that was as close as they’d gotten. Even when they’d been together they hadn’t been like Louis and Harry, spooning each other every night. No, they’d preferred their space in bed, comfortable enough in the fact that the other one was simply _there_. Removing his foot, Liam didn’t even bother dressing before padding into the kitchen, Harry looking like a zombie as he curled around an empty coffee cup.

“I’ll make you a top up,” Liam said, prying the cup from Harry’s grip and switching the kettle on. “Weren’t you at the hospital?” He suddenly stood bolt upright. “Is Louis…?”

“Louis is fine,” Harry placated, looking quite relieved himself. “But I have to go to work.”

Liam’s jaw dropped. “What?!”

“I _know_.” Harry’s head thudded against the counter. “Perrie’s currently in Spain with her three of her girlfriends and Ed’s touring somewhere up north so it’s just me and Niall and Babs. I mean, Barbara’s gonna _try_ and let me go after the morning rush but short of shutting the shop altogether…” he shrugged helplessly.

“That’s rough,” Liam said, handing Harry his replenished coffee and dumping his own tea bag in the bin. His eyes narrowed. “Have you even slept?”

Harry shook his head miserably. “Barely. A snippet here and there but those hospital chairs and my back don’t really go together. I figured sleeping for an hour only though might just make it worse so I’m hoping to push through it.”

Liam hummed, blowing on his tea. “What time is Jay coming?”

“Liam. Let’s cut the bullshit.”

Liam froze, mug halfway to his lips. Harry looked downright murderous and if Liam hadn’t been present for the whole _well-if-we’re-getting-married-then-I-get-_ some _-say-over-Georgia-too_ fight – which, God forbid, had started because Harry insisted Georgia wasn’t allowed to skate anymore until they found her a suitable helmet – he would never have known this side of Harry existed.

“I don’t…” He licked his lips nervously and while Harry didn’t back down, his tone softened ever so slightly.

“Why is the man who fucked you over currently asleep in my bed?”

Okay, Liam was wrong. Harry hadn’t backed down at all. “Harry, I’m sorry! It really does sound terrible when you say it like that.”

“Liam, he _ruined_ you,” Harry pointed out, razor-sharp. “Why would you even let him put his foot in the door?”

“Because my world was falling apart and unlike you I don’t have a best friend to talk to!” The volume and sheer honesty made Harry subconsciously step back. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have people like Niall, like Ed, who can be there for you. I have Louis. That’s it Harry! It’s been me and Louis and Zayn ever since I left school so when you take Louis out there’s only one person left I can talk to!”

“You could have talked to Niall,” Harry interjected softly.

“But it’s not the same,” Liam protested, voice hitching. “I barely even _know_ Niall, really. I’m nowhere near as close to him as you and you know it. I _know_ Zayn. I know him like I know Louis and last night I really, really just needed a friend. I needed someone familiar.”

Harry grasped his hands. “But Liam, Zayn’s not that person. You _know_ he’s not. That’s why you haven’t called him in five months. You don’t even mention him anymore. You’re over him.” He pointed back to the bedroom where Zayn was still asleep. “Don’t let _this_ happen. Don’t let him back in. Whatever he said, don’t-”

“He didn’t.”

Harry paused, head cocking to the side in confusion. “Sorry?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Liam said simply, staring into the depths of his tea in shame. “Harry, you don’t know Zayn so please, don’t ever speak about him like that. And I know,” he held up a hand when Harry opened his mouth, “That he’s done nothing to make you like him…But he wanted nothing more than to get out last night.”

“…what?”

Liam gave Harry a sad smile. “I pushed him in there, shut the door in his face, begged him to stay…I hurt him, had him in tears-” Harry sucked in a breath. “-but he stayed, because I _begged_.”

Harry’s hand grasped his arm. “Liam…I’m sorry.” His grip tightened. “Just…don’t let Zayn get the wrong impression.”

Liam was planning to nod sagely but Zayn took that very moment to shuffle out of Louis’ room, absently scratching at his stomach and it was a miracle he was even awake at 5 A.M. Louis would never believe it.

“We’re not getting back together.”

The words were blurted out and they hung in the air like an oppressive fog. If Zayn hadn’t been fully awake, he was now. His gaze snapped to Liam, eyes a little wider than normal and maybe he imagined the faintest tinge of hurt there.

“What?” he managed to ask thickly, glancing between Liam and Harry like a startled deer.

 _“Us,”_ Liam ground out. “We are not getting back together. _Ever_. Just to make that clear.”

“ _Good_ ,” Zayn sneered, clearly on board now, hands balled into fists by his side. “You made that clear last night and I made it clear five months ago. Don’t know why you’re even mentioning it.”

“Okay,” Harry said, jumping between them with his hands up. “Sorry I even brought it up. Everyone’s clear on the subject, so let’s drop it.”

“Fine by me,” Zayn mumbled, wiping the sleep out of his eyes before tossing a look Harry’s way. “And I know you don’t like me but at least tell me how Louis’ doing.”

Harry thought Zayn could have left off the first half of that remark but he wasn’t petty enough to call him out on it. “Louis’ doing much the same. It’s just time now.”

Zayn nodded thoughtfully, obviously gleaning so much more just from Harry’s stance and demeanour and Harry kind of admired and hated that about him. “Jay coming?”

“Train gets in around one,” Harry supplied, begrudgingly amused that Zayn and Liam had identical thought patterns. “She had to find someone to mind the girls. Didn’t want to drag them all down.”

“Yeah, probably a bit not good,” Liam agreed.

“So you gonna, like, take Georgia to the hospital with you until Jay comes?” Both Harry and Liam just stared at Zayn. He stared back. “What? You’re not gonna sit here until she comes, right?”

“I’m going to work,” Harry said slowly.

Zayn’s brow furrowed, turning to Liam. “So you’re staying home then?”

“No?” It came out more as a question. “I have work.”

Zayn’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re sending Georgia to _school?!_ What the fuck? She’s gonna have what, four, five, hours sleep, her dad’s in _hospital!_ How is she supposed to cope with that?!”

Liam looked at Harry frantically. Oh shit, he hadn’t thought of that. From the way Harry’s face had gone slightly white, he clearly hadn’t either. Harry fisted his hands in his curls, swearing under his breath. “I could take her to work…”

“You’d have to take her now,” Liam pointed out gently, making Harry swear once more.

“Drop her off before work?” Harry suggested, looking at Liam desperately. “On the way passed and she…”

“I don’t start work until three.”

Liam’s breath caught in his throat and he was pretty sure Harry had given himself whiplash. Zayn was doing that – typical to Liam, new to Harry – thing where he withdrew, soft and quiet as he toed the ground.

“I know I’m not ideal,” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “But I can stay here and let her sleep? And then either when G wakes up or when Jay comes I take her to the hospital?”

“No.”

“Harry…”

Green eyes rounded on him. “ _No Liam_. Sorry, but _not_ happening.”

Sure, Harry could stand his ground but when push came to shove, Liam was no pushover either. Which is why he drew himself up to his full height, stance widening ever so slightly. “No, Harry, just listen. Zayn is _right_. Georgia is too exhausted to be dragged out of bed. He can mind her. He’s done it for _years_. Put Georgia’s well-being first.”

“Maybe you don’t remember but Rosie doesn’t like him,” Harry hissed.

“That’s not for you to decide,” Liam countered.

Harry folded his arms tightly. “Not for _you_ to decide either.”

“No, it’s for _her_ to decide.”

Harry went to snap at Zayn when he suddenly went stiff and that made Liam spin around and _oh_. Zayn was standing at the edge of the kitchen with Georgia in his arms. She looked uncertain and most definitely confused but perhaps what struck Liam the most was the fact that Georgia wasn’t diving straight for Harry, instead content to stay in Zayn’s arms. From the way Harry had stumbled ever so slightly, he’d realised that too.

“Harry?” Georgia’s voice was oh so quiet. “Where’s Daddy?”

Harry’s bottom lip trembled, swiftly kissing her cheek. “He’s at the hospital but he’s okay. We can see him later.”

“Wanna see him now.”

Liam felt his own heart break, both at Georgia’s words and the way Harry’s face crumpled. “Harry wants to see him too,” Liam promised, brushing her hair tenderly. “But Daddy needs to sleep and the doctors need to look after him for awhile. You can see him when they’re done.”

She finally nodded, albeit reluctantly, and Zayn tapped her shoulder to get her attention. “But…we have a problem. Because we know you’re super tired but everyone has to go to work. So, you can go with Harry now, you can sleep a little more and go to the bakery when Liam goes to work, or you can sleep as long as you want here but it’ll be with me.”

Liam couldn’t help the tiny beam of pride that filled his chest because Zayn still knew how to talk to Georgia, still was the loving, doting godparent he’d always been. Georgia looked between them all uncertainly, punctuating the silence with a loud yawn. She then slid out of Zayn’s arms, walking over to Harry and gesturing for him to crouch down. Harry did so, frowning when Georgia cupped his cheek with a hand. “Rosie?”

“…would you be mad if I stayed with Zayn? I know we don’t talk to him anymore and I’m sorry Harry but I really want to sleep and I’m really tired and…”

“Georgia, take a breath,” Harry hastily ordered when she started to tense up. As she calmed down he sent a displeased look in Zayn’s direction before giving Georgia a tight smile. “I’m not mad. You had a big night. You can go sleep if you want.”

“Okay. Thank you Harry,” she mumbled sleepily, kissing his cheek and giving him a quick hug. “I love you.”

“Love you angel,” Harry breathed in response, watching her patter back down the hallway. He then dumped his tea in the sink. “ _Fine_ ,” he snapped, sending Liam and Zayn a dark scowl. “But let it be known that I was against this and when Louis comes to skin you, I won’t stop him.”

The front door slamming shut echoed through the flat, causing Liam to wince. He scratched his neck before sheepishly turning to Zayn. “I gue-”

“No, you don’t.” Zayn’s voice was like ice. He barged past Liam and dropped onto the couch. “I’m going back to sleep. _Here_. I think we’ve said enough.”

With that he rolled over so he was staring at the back of the chair and Liam was left staring at Zayn’s back. Zayn was right and he knew it. Kneading his forehead, Liam decided to catch another couple of hours sleep himself. He was nearly back at Louis’ room before he groaned, back-tracking to Niall’s room and grabbing the spare blanket out from the wardrobe. Detouring through the living room, Liam laid the blanket over Zayn, hand lingering on his shoulder.

“There’s only one thing I didn’t say about last night: _thank you_.”

And if Liam felt Zayn tense under his hand, he didn’t say anything. He also didn’t say anything when he heard muffled sobs coming from the living room, the sound haunting him for days to follow.

 

***

 

Straightening Georgia’s checked poncho from where the wind had misplaced it, Zayn gave a reassuring nod to the little girl before making for the reception desk. He’d made it three steps before a hand slid into his and Zayn gripped it tightly because, in all honesty, he was just as terrified. He was sure his hand was shaking as he stood at the counter, drawing Georgia’s attention from her boots to his face, nose scrunched up as she studied him in something akin to worry.

“I’m fine,” he said in least convincing voice ever, turning to the receptionist with an uneasy smile. “We’re here to see Louis Tomlinson.”

She nodded, typing the name into the database, catching sight of Georgia as she waited for the computer to load. “Her father?”

Georgia shifted behind his leg and Zayn nodded, interlacing their fingers. “Yeah, he is. This,” he gestured at the hospital in general, “is all a bit scary.”

The lady smiled in understanding. “I know it is hun but everything will be fine.” She made an ‘ _aha_ ’ noise, peering at the screen. “Room 298. He’s just been moved out of ICU, you’ll be happy to hear.”

A real grin appeared on Zayn’s face. “I _am_ happy to hear.” He thanked the woman before leading Georgia towards the lifts.

“Zayn, what’s an ICU?” she asked, probably more words than she’d spoken to him ever since she’d gotten up. She’d been basically silent as she’d gotten dressed, refusing to let him make her breakfast, adamant that she could do it herself. It hurt but it was nothing more than he deserved. Really, he deserved _less_.

“An ICU,” he said as the lift started its ascent, “is a department called Intensive Care Unit and is for very sick people. If Louis’ no longer there, it means they no longer think he’s very sick. Only a little sick. Well, a little too sick to go home.”

Georgia studied her boots once more. “When will he come home?”

Zayn squeezed her hand. “When he can.”

Georgia accepted that, nodding as if he’d said enough and maybe he had. Georgia had always been clever. Stepping out of the lift, Zayn asked for directions at the nurse’s station in front of him and then led Georgia through corridor after corridor. They eventually arrived at the door just shy of one o’clock. Zayn had it in his mind that Harry would get there around much the same time and Jay possibly a little later.

Which was why he was suitably shocked to open the door and find Jay Tomlinson look over from the bed, stunned speechless. And…oh _fuck, no, no, no_. Asleep, he was supposed to be _asleep!_ In every version of this Zayn had rehearsed, Louis was still unconscious, still recovering from surgery, sleeping off his injuries. Not staring at him with wide eyes that were narrowing and hardening by the second.

Urging his body forward, Zayn marched to the bedside, scooped Georgia up, and dumped her beside Louis.

“She just woke up, she’s had breakfast, she’s _fine_. I…Glad to see you are as well. Don’t scare me like that again.”

He didn’t run from the room. He didn’t. But, well, it was pretty fucking close.

 

***

 

Adjusting the flowers in his arms, Harry waited as Liam extracted himself from the lift, having somehow gotten the balloons Niall insisted they buy tangled inside.

“It’s not funny,” Liam pouted.

“’S a little bit,” Harry replied, bumping Liam’s shoulder playfully.

Liam had managed to weasel his way out of woke early though Babs, despite her best efforts, hadn’t been able to do the same with Harry – poor Niall was still there, pulling a twelve-hour-shift on little-to-no sleep. He’d crash the second he clocked off and Harry had pleaded with him to not bother coming to the hospital tonight; that he could come up tomorrow because they still both had to work and there was only so much the body could take before it gave in. Even now Harry was dead on his feet but he had to see Louis, had to make sure he was okay.

Reaching the door, Harry pulled it open, gasping when he found Louis awake. _“Lou’!”_ He flew across the room, leaving a trail of sunflowers behind him but he didn’t care, peppering Louis’ face with kisses. “You’re okay, you’re okay. Oh my god, Lou’. I was… _Boo_ , we were all so…”

“I’m fine,” Louis promised, only then to hiss as he tried to move, earning him concerned frowns from both Harry and Liam. “Okay, okay, not _fine_ but getting there. Mum’s convinced I’m not dying, took Georgia to the café to get lunch because apparently she skipped breakfast in her haste to get here.”

“Can’t blame her,” Liam remarked, setting down the balloons. “Niall,” he said flatly when Louis raised a questioning eyebrow.

Louis laughed, and then swore and pressed a hand to his chest, eyes watering. “Please Li’, no laughing.”

“Shit, yeah, sorry, sorry,” he rambled, coming closer and settling down on the side opposite Harry.

“So sorry you’ll make it up to me?”

Both Liam and Harry exchanged suspicious looks, said looks only intensifying when Louis attempted to look innocent. “How?” Harry asked cautiously.

“Hmm, how indeed?” Louis pondered, tapping his chin thoughtfully before snapping, “Oh I know! How about telling me why the fuck _Zayn Malik_ turned up here not one half hour ago with my daughter!”

“It was Liam.”

Liam gaped at him but Harry merely shrugged. Hey, he’d made it clear what his intentions were. He then gave Louis a sweet smile.

“Liam invited Zayn here last night and then took him back to the flat to sleep in our bed.”

Louis went very, very still while Liam went very, very pale. “ _Liam James Payne, you fucking what?!”_

So maybe the nurses got called because Louis knocked his ribs in his yelling and flailing which sent him head-first into ten-out-of-ten on the pain scale but, in Louis’ opinion, it was worth it. So worth it.

 

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not expecting this to be a long story (see chapter listing up top) but I'm hoping you'll enjoy it anyway. Thank you all! .xx Dan


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um...so this went from four chapters to six chapters...yeah, I don't know how that happened. Oh well, more for everyone to read I guess! Thank you for all the kindness in regards to the first chapter and this story in general. I hope you like the direction it'll take. :)

 

Liam stabbed at his salad distastefully. The lettuce was altogether too floppy and the supposed chicken was _clearly_ hiding. But that was his fault for forgetting his lunch because he’d lost track of time in the shower. Sometimes living alone was amazing and other times it was nightmarish because there was no one to remind him of important dates or times and it was a stark reminder that he, Liam, was a “real” adult now.

Although, Liam mused with a grimace, he didn’t exactly feel like one because most “real” adults didn’t stare at their phones for an entire lunch hour. And they most certainly didn’t do it every day for nearly three weeks.

Because Liam had a dilemma.

A dilemma that started with a capital “Z”.

Had Zayn messaged him since Louis’ accident? Yes, but only once and only a couple of days after they’d parted ways to check up on Louis. Apparently Louis was outright ignoring him and Zayn had needed some peace of mind, which Liam actually thought was kind of fair. The least Louis could have done was said he was out of hospital. Liam had squashed those fears and assured Zayn that their friend was slowly recovering and didn’t have any permanent injuries. Zayn had thanked him and then dropped off the face of the earth again.

To be honest, Liam wasn’t okay with that.

He didn’t want Zayn back, not in that way. But what he wanted was Zayn’s _friendship_. Because their friendship had been just as amazing as their relationship and even though parts of Liam still hated him, other parts really missed him. Louis’ whole situation had put in stark contrast for Liam just how alone he truly was. But it always came back with what to open with?

_I heard you crying that night. Don’t know if you were tired or if it was Louis’ situation or if it was me. If it was me I’m sorry?_

Or:

_Want to tell me how I explain to Georgia why you will come to visit Louis but not her?_

Because apparently that was Liam’s fault too and he’d cringed when Louis had cornered him one evening after Georgia had spent bath time sobbing into his chest. He’d received the bollocking of the century and tried to make amends with Georgia. She didn’t blame _him_ , she just didn’t understand and she was hurt. It only cemented Louis’ rule that Zayn was to stay away from them. _Non-negotiable._

“Liam? Meeting in the board room in five.”

Sending his co-worker a smile, Liam screwed his nose up at his salad before tossing it into the bin. He then pocketed his phone, telling himself he’d figure out what to do tomorrow.

But then, he’d been saying that for past three weeks.

 

***

 

If he was a couple of years younger, Zayn would have started shouting. A couple of years younger again and he would have started crying. But he was twenty-six now, he didn’t get to cry or throw tantrums, all because the bank refused to give him a loan. Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose. Right, he was now officially a twenty-six-year-old without a job, living in London, and not eligible for a loan. He wasn’t an idiot. He gave it a month, maybe two at best, before his funds ran dry. A month to find another new job. Fucking fantastic.

Moving to the railing out front of the bank, Zayn rested his forearms on the metal as he toyed with his phone. He’d been doing that a lot lately. He’d texted Liam once under the pretence of asking how Louis was – and that bit hadn’t been a lie, he’d truly wanted to know and Louis hadn’t been replying – but he hadn’t come up with an excuse to message again since. Some part of him was laughing cruelly at the fact that he even _needed_ a reason to text Liam. Once upon a time it had been second nature.

Zayn then sighed. No, he was a liar. It had _always_ been second nature. There was a reason he’d deleted Liam’s number from his phone after their break up; the only way to stop him from doing something stupid. It had eventually stopped being an instinctive thing, texting Liam whenever he saw something funny or a random tale from his day, and slowly it had gotten easier. Gotten easier because he’d let the idea get put in his head that it was _Liam’s_ fault he was hurting. That Liam must have been so clingy if Zayn couldn’t go hours without talking to him, that _Liam_ forced him to stay hidden in the shadows with his art because he was jealous of how far Zayn would go if others got to see him, that _Liam_ forced him to love him because _how_ could Zayn know what love was if he hadn’t even _been_ with anyone else?

Gritting his teeth, Zayn unlocked his phone. He had been such a fucking idiot back then. Maybe that’s how he should start with Liam. Tell Liam he was an idiot but if he wanted to still talk they could do that but that’s _all_ they would do. He could-

“Oh.”

Jesus Christ, did the universe hate him?

Lifting his gaze, Zayn found himself staring at a gaping Liam. Really? No seriously, really? So yes, they had accounts with the same bank, the same branch, because they’d never had a joint account but this had made transferring money between them and paying bills so much simpler but why on earth did Liam have to turn up not only on the same day but also the exact same _time_ as him?

“Hi…” Liam said awkwardly, scaling the three steps that lead to the entrance.

Zayn watched him warily. “Hi.”

Liam wavered uncertainly before pointing at the door. “Going in or…?”

He shook his head. “Just come out.” He jumped up onto the railing to his right, Liam following him without question. Zayn toyed with his phone before mumbling, “I…was gonna...”

Liam frowned at Zayn’s phone, tilting the screen down and tensing when he saw it open to _messages_ , looking every bit as though Zayn had been about to compose one to him. He blinked up at Zayn before shaking his head minutely. Zayn nodded, pulling a packet of cigarettes out and lighting one. Inhaling deeply, he nearly hacked on the smoke when Liam flicked his wrist.

“Oi, where’s my offer?”

Zayn fumbled for the packet, Liam catching them before they hit the ground, extracting a cigarette before exchanging the box for Zayn’s lighter. Zayn watched him take the first drag intently. “You… _you_ smoke?”

“Don’t tell Harry.”

Zayn threw his head back in laughter, taking a drag of his own. “Mate, he’s not _that_ terrifying. He’s like…a kitten in a lion costume, that’s all.”

Liam pouted in clear disbelief but didn’t comment further until Zayn pointed at the light between his fingers emphatically. “So some of the people at work do it and…yeah, I picked up the habit.”

 _“Excuse me!”_ Zayn screeched, kicking out at Liam who knocked his booted foot away with a chuckle. “You saw me smoke for five _years_ and never took me up on the offer! Not even once!”

Liam actually laughed at him, Zayn quickly ducking his head to hide a smile behind his hair. “Yeah, but I never really saw it as smoking, to be honest. I just saw it as you.”

Zayn stared at him blankly. “What?”

Liam ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Like…I didn’t see it as _smoking_ , I just saw it as a part of _you_ and since I wasn’t you I didn’t do it…? Does that even make sense?”

Zayn mulled it over before shrugging. “Maybe…You mean like, you get so used to seeing Louis’ tattoos that it’s just a part of him and it’s _just_ him and while you might get a tattoo yourself, you’d never get one of his.”

Liam snapped his fingers. “Right! Like that…sort of.” He squashed his cigarette under his foot before plucking the stub of Zayn’s from his mouth and giving it the same treatment. “I just…It took me seeing someone else do it to make me realise it wasn’t just a ‘you’ thing, that a lot of people do it.”

“Try half the population,” Zayn snorted, reluctantly swinging his leg over the railing and jumping down. He tapped Liam’s watch on his way past. “Your lunch break’s gonna be over soon so get in there.” He nodded towards the bank. He then hesitated, chewing on his lip before holding up his phone. “My number’s still the same.”

Something shifted between them. And then Liam scowled. “Yeah, figured that much.”

With that he stomped into the bank, leaving Zayn standing on the doorstep and…He forced himself to stand up straight. No, right, this was what he wanted. Good. It was…good.

 

***

 

Six days later it came.

_I just had a dog follow me all the way to work._

Zayn barked out a laugh at the image, picturing Liam jogging to work with some giant hound snapping at his heels. Liam would half-heartedly attempt to shoo it, Zayn just knew it, but then he’d also be fighting the impossible battle of stopping to pat it or be late to work. He was tempted to text back and ask what kind of dog it was but then Zayn didn’t know what this was. Was Liam opening the door out of genuine want? Or was he merely taking pity on him? If Zayn texted back now, would he appear desperate?

In the end, Zayn closed the message without replying. He set about ducking in and out of stores of all sorts – _any_ sorts – and dropping off his CV. He made it until lunch time before his self-control failed.

_Ha! Big or small?_

There was a noticeable delay. And then:

_Small._   
_A little puppy._   
_It had the biggest blue eyes!_   
_Zayn, it was part wolf – I swear!!!_

Zayn laughed so loudly the majority of the coffee shop he was seated in turned to look at him. He flushed darkly but the young man at the table opposite gave him a warm smile. Biting his lip to stop his grin from taking over his face, Zayn re-read the text.

And then once more.

And then _maybe_ once more before he went to bed that night.

 

***

 

It happened gradually.

Well, Liam thought it happened gradually but maybe it didn’t. Somewhere over the last four weeks, he had gone from texting Zayn or vice versa every couple of days to every day. They never had chats, never sent each other pictures, never called, but the odd sentence was still thrown back and forth between them.

 

_Apparently Greek salads don’t contain lettuce???_

_Buildings with fourteen stories should NOT have glass elevators. Especially not on the fucking floor!_

_I’ve always wondered who would win: Batman or Black Widow?_   
_Liam, mate, Widow. No question._

_Did you know tattoos make you unemployable?_   
_…Do you need a job?_   
_No. I was just saying._   
_Okay._

_Niall plays dirty!!! My shins will kill for days._

_Whoever did the graffiti wall in Whitechapel needs to come and claim it. Fucking rad._

 

A month of this and their routine had never changed. Neither of them had asked for more or even so much as _hinted_ at more and Liam would have to say he was content. Liam liked where their relationship was at present and he could happily say he could live the rest of his life this way.

That is, until his phone abruptly started ringing at 11.30PM on a Friday night with the called ID flashing, _Zayn_.

He was tempted to leave it. But then Zayn had never called him.

In the end it was his blatant concern that won out, forcing him to answer.

“…Zayn?”

_“Li’…”_

It was a drawn out whine and Zayn’s voice sounded so, so messed up, Liam getting tangled in his blankets in his haste to sit up. “ _Zayn?_ ”

A choked out sob came down the line. _“Liam…I, I_ can’t _…I can’t do this anymore.”_

Liam’s face adopted a frown. “What’s going on? Zayn, what can’t you do?”

“This!” Zayn screamed, hysteria creeping into his voice. _“I can’t keep this up Liam. I can’t keep doing what we’re doing.”_

“Zayn, _breathe_ ,” Liam pleaded, listening until Zayn didn’t seem to be one step away from passing out. “I don’t understand. We’re not doing anything.”

 _“We’re doing everything!”_ Zayn cried.

And that was enough. Liam was out of bed, tugging on his clothes. _“Stop.”_ He blinked in surprise when Zayn instantly went silent. “Okay…Now, tell me where you are. Don’t fight me,” he groaned when Zayn started to do exactly that. “Tell me where you are and we will talk this out like mature adults. God knows what happens when we don’t.”

There was a long pause before Zayn meekly whispered the name of a park two suburbs over. Assuring Zayn he’d be there soon, Liam grabbed an umbrella to counter the rain he could hear outside. Deliberating, he then snagged a thin jumper too because if he knew Zayn – which he did – he was nothing but a mess when he got in moods like this. The other man probably hadn’t even realised it was raining and would undoubtedly be soaked right through to the skin by the time Liam got there.

His theory proved to be correct when, twenty minutes and several stumbles over tree roots later, Liam found Zayn hunched at the base of a beech, hands knotted in his hair. It was silver now, Liam noted in surprise. He was also, as Liam had predicted, completely saturated.

“Here,” he said, thrusting the jumper in Zayn’s face before he’d even noticed his presence.

Zayn rocketed into the air before he flushed darkly, skin an odd colour in the harsh lighting of Liam’s phone. Taking in his appearance, Liam sighed heavily, dropping down beside his ex-fiancé and setting the phone face down between them so they could, at the very least, see each other. Liam watched Zayn hesitate before stuffing on the jumper, burrowing into the collar.

“Zayn.” His voice was flat and made the other man sink down. “What is this even about?”

“If you don’t wanna be here then don’t.” It was a growl but Liam likened it to that of a cornered, wounded animal more than an actual threat.

Liam stared him down. “True, I don’t want to be here.” Zayn’s jaw dropped. “But then, neither do you. _No one_ wants to be crying in a park at midnight. There’s a reason you’re here. I’d like you to tell me what that is. And what it is you “can’t do”. Because, forgive me, but that’s starting to sound a lot like the vague language you love to pull. “ _We could never work_ ” ring any bells?”

One of Zayn’s hands came back to fist in his hair, effectively obscuring his face but from the tightness of his shoulders Liam knew he’d gotten his point across. “I…I can’t do this,” Zayn repeated, sounding uncharacteristically small. “I _can’t_ …We can’t keep talking.”

Liam’s frown returned. “We don’t. We pass each other random tidbits. And they’re not even about _us_. They’re more like vague tweets than anything else.”

“But…you _talk_ to me.”

Wide, disbelieving eyes turned to him but Liam could only blink. “Yes, I talk to you.”

“You shouldn’t. You should hate me.”

Liam shrugged. “Maybe I should. But I don’t. I’m angry at you, I was hurt by you, disgusted even…But I don’t hate you.”

To his horror, Zayn started to sob, hiccoughing into the sleeves of his jumper. “And that’s why we can’t keep this up! This is why we can’t be friends!”

“Zayn, wha-”

“Because you _should_ hate me and I feel so fucking _awful_ right now that every time your name appears on my phone I feel like someone punched me in the gut but I can’t tell you why because if I do then you’ll _definitely_ hate me and I…I…I don’t _want_ you to hate me!” He shook his head desperately. “I don’t…Please don’t hate me. I threw _everything_ away and I know that and I know you think we can be friends but you don’t know what I’ve done! And if you find out, you’ll leave but then I can’t keep lying to you because you deserve _better_ and I…I…”

_“Shit.”_

Liam pushed Zayn’s head between his knees, wincing as he heard how short and shallow his breaths had become. It had been quite a while since he’d seen Zayn work himself into a panic attack but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten everything. It also didn’t mean it didn’t terrify the shit out of him. Because it did. It _always_ did.

“Zayn…breathe,” Liam murmured, hand firm but still in the centre of his back. “Come on, you can do it…in…out…picture the rhythm.” Zayn’s breaths evened out a little but not to the point he was content with. “Zayn, I don’t care if it worked for Stiles in _Teen Wolf_ but I sure as hell am not kissing you to break you out of this.”

A startled bubble of laughter escaped Zayn and that alone seemed to snap him out of his headspace, allowing him to slowly but surely pull himself together. After what seemed like hours, Zayn managed to return to a seated position, head slumping back against the tree behind them.

“I’m a mess,” he said to no one in particular.

“You really are,” Liam agreed, unable to hide a smile when Zayn pouted at him. He then turned serious, hating how that made Zayn go rigid. “But…You need to stop making my decisions for me. _Talk_ to me and let _me_ tell _you_ how I feel. Stop guessing how I’m going to feel and work your life out around that. Let _me_ decide what my feelings are.” He then set his gaze squarely forward. “So, go. Tell me.”

“Liam…”

“ _No_. You called me here. _You_ talk.”

“…I fucked someone.”

It was so quiet Liam nearly had to ask Zayn to repeat it but he was so glad it didn’t come to that because Liam felt as though ice had been poured through his veins. “…okay.”

“Not while we were together!” Zayn hastily said, futilely trying to meet his gaze but Liam stubbornly kept his eyes trained on that one spot in the distance. “Never while we were together. And not…Not like straight after. It was when…after we…after January.”

“After you let me fuck you.” Liam felt as though Zayn was going to melt under his glare. “Is he…Are you…” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Are you guys…dating?”

“…it was a girl.”

_“Jesus Christ.”_

_“I’m sorry Liam!”_ Zayn exploded, launching onto his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. “It was _one_ time and I…I’d never been with a girl before and I know you haven’t been either so that doesn’t make it okay but I was curious and…and I…Her name was Gigi, I picked her up in a club, we went back to mine and-”

“Zayn, stop.”

“-…no Liam, _listen_. And yeah, we did…that…but I…I was a fucking _mess_. God, it was the _last_ thing I wanted. The moment I got her into that bed I knew I’d made a mistake but by then it was too late to back out, wasn’t it? I…The second we were done I left.” Liam’s eyebrows rose but Zayn merely stared at his lap. “Left some girl I’d known all of half an hour in my flat while I…well actually I came here. Came here and spent the rest of the night crying because I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle what I had done. It was like…someone had ripped a hole in my chest. I felt so dirty…so _guilty_.”

Liam frowned at his word choice. “Guilty?”

“Yes, guilty,” Zayn snapped. “Because it felt like I had fucking cheated! I couldn’t deal with the fact that I had cheated on you despite the fact that I wasn’t even with you!”

Liam didn’t have a response to that. He toyed with his boots’ laces for a long time before finally, finally, shrugging minutely. “Okay, you feel like you made a mistake. I don’t…I don’t hate you. As much as I don’t like it…you’re right. We _weren’t_ together.”

“Have you?”

The question came quickly and with so much desperation that _Liam_ nearly felt guilty himself when he replied with, “No.” Zayn whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that were beginning to fall. Liam gave his knee a nudge. “So then…what did you do after that?”

“Cocaine.”

 _“What?!”_ Zayn slapped his hands over his ears at the deafening roar but Liam paid him no attention, ripping his hands away. “Zayn Javadd Malik, you did _what? You bloody tit!_ Why the _hell_ would you do that?”

“Because it was there,” Zayn sniffled. “Someone heard me, like, crying here for hours and came past, said they could make it better. And it did Liam, it did. And when I got to my flat, turns out the people there knew where to get it…I had just never asked before.”

“How long?” Liam demanded. “Are you…”

“ _No,_ ” Zayn said adamantly. “Not anymore. I…This doesn’t make sense, like, at all because you, well not _you_ but whatever, was what started me doing it, yeah? In this weird way. But this one night, I had a hit lined up and then I got this message on my phone from this uni friend, asking me to pass on my congratulations to Louis. I didn’t have a fucking clue what he was on about so I went onto facebook and obviously Lou’s blocked me but Harry’s profile’s public, you know? He’s all sweet and trusting like that and I saw…”

“You saw they were engaged,” Liam surmised.

Zayn nodded tiredly. “Yeah. And for some reason, that just made me feel like a right failure. Like I was wasting my life? I think because Louis had been such a wreck when I’d seen him last and then suddenly it was like he had his life all together. In all the pictures with Harry he looked happy, and he was healthy again and always smiling. Kinda made me realise I was acting like a bratty teenager with an attitude problem.” He looked slightly proud when he met Liam’s gaze this time though. “I didn’t take a hit that night. And not once since. Fucking tough but I did it.”

Liam huffed after a drawn out moment of silence. “I wish I understood you.”

Zayn frowned. “Sorry?”

“You.” Liam eyed Zayn up, not knowing what to think because how could he? “You leave me because you don’t want to be with me but then you’ve never been happy since we’ve been apart. I’m sorry Zayn, but I don’t know what to make of that.”

To his credit, Zayn only nodded – no harsh comment, no biting remark. “I’m not happy at the moment, I can admit that. In fact, everything’s pretty shit but…I don’t think that changes what I said. I meant that Liam. We _are_ too different. I don’t think different works.”

Flipping over his phone, Liam groaned at the time, reluctantly getting to his feet. “Well,” he said breezily. “You wanna know who I think are really different?” Zayn nodded cautiously. “Louis and Harry. I cannot honestly think of one thing those two have in common. They’re so different and yet at heart they’re not. They complement each other, balance out, yin yang and all that zen Harry’s into. Not wrong, just _different_.”

Zayn went strangely silent, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. He tugged on his shoe, more interested in it than his phone going off beside him. Leaving him to sort through his thoughts, Liam picked up the phone and inspected the screen, lest it be someone begging Zayn not to be dead in a ditch or locked in the boot of a car.

_Don’t think staying out is gonna save you Paki. Rent by Monday or you’re out._

“ _Zayn._ ”

Zayn’s head shot up, widening when he realised Liam had his phone. He scrambled for it but Liam pinned him to the tree easily enough. He then held up the screen, Zayn groaning as he read the message.

“Explanation, _now_.”

“I’m behind on rent. That’s all it is,” Zayn said, snatching the phone back and folding his arms stiffly, looking anywhere _but_ at Liam.

Despite what some people thought, Liam was actually quite bright and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on here. “You don’t have a job; haven’t in awhile.”

Zayn’s head whipped around, eyes wide. “Li’…”

“You’ll find another job. You’ll sort this out.” In perhaps his bravest move yet, Liam tentatively reached out and took one of Zayn’s hands. “Come on,” he coaxed, gently pulling him forward. “It’s nearly two in the morning. We need to get home.”

The grip on his hand seemed to render Zayn speechless and he blindly followed Liam as he made his way back onto the main streets, hopping onto the night bus. It wasn’t until Liam pulled them off at a stop and opened the door to a block of flats that Zayn seemed to come back to himself, looking around in confusion. “Where…Your flat. This is where you live.”

“It is,” Liam confirmed, having to tug that little bit harder to get Zayn into the lift. “Leave it, please. I’m tired, you’re exhausted – don’t lie, I can see it. Let’s just sleep this off.”

Unlocking his flat, Liam lobbed a set of spare clothes to Zayn and instructed him to change while he ducked into the bathroom to do his teeth. As he stared at his reflection, toothbrush hanging out of the corner of his mouth, Liam wondered if Zayn would even still be there when he came out. He almost felt ashamed when he opened the bathroom door and found that he was, even if he was standing at the end of the bed awkwardly.

“I…I didn’t…”

“It’s just sharing,” Liam said calmly, pulling back the covers, pleasantly surprised when Zayn took that as invitation enough and crawled straight in. Liam switched off the light before climbing in himself. “Good night Zayn.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Liam was almost asleep when:

“Li’? Thank you.”

 

***

 

Zayn groaned as an alarm went off next to him. It was early, far too early, and why was Liam’s alarm even going off? He suddenly went still. Liam. Liam’s alarm. Why the bloody hell was Liam’s alarm waking him up? Waking him up for the first time in nearly a year? Zayn bolted upright, to the point that he would have toppled off the bed had Liam not had the foresight to position him on the side closest to the wall last night. As it was, his back thumped into the wall behind, earning a displeased “ _oi!_ ” from the neighbour next door and a sheepish look from Liam.

“Um, sorry?” he offered, shaking the phone. He then narrowed his eyes. “You okay?”

Zayn shook his head and then switched it to a nod. “Sorry,” he gasped. “Just…forgot.”

“Forgo-… _Oh_.”

“’s fine,” Zayn quickly assured, giving Liam a ginger smile. “It was a surprise, that’s all. Forgot you still have the fucking Nokia ringtone as your alarm; _Jesus_. Didn’t you have to download that special?”

Liam had the grace to look embarrassed. “Shove off.”

Zayn grunted as his shoulder was pushed. He then flipped Liam off as he climbed over him, making towards the bathroom before pulling up short. “Um…can I…shower?”

Liam’s expression went from questioning to soft. “Yeah, of course. I hung your clothes up to dry in there so they should be good to go too.”

The tender smile on his face was too much and Zayn practically sprinted for the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He spent several good minutes just leaning against the wood, eyes clamped shut and hands balled into fists. He eventually forced himself into the shower, foregoing using any body washes or shampoos – so really he just stood under the water? Great fucking job there – because they all smelt like _Liam_ and it was simply too much. Wiping the steam off the mirror as he finished climbing into his clothes, Zayn froze when he heard someone knock on the door of the flat. He heard Liam pad across the wood and his world screamed to a halt when he heard,

“Oh. Louis, Harry. Hi Georgia.”

Oh no. Oh fuck no.

“Alright Li’?” Louis’ voice echoed through the flat and Zayn was positive he wasn’t even breathing. “You look like a startled deer.”

“I…just woke up,” Liam stammered, Zayn fighting a grin at how unconvincing he was.

“…And did you forget you promised to mind Georgie for us?”

Ah. That’s what the alarm had been for then.

“Uh…”

_“Liam!”_

“Louis, it’s fine,” Harry placated. “He just overslept. It’s not like you never do that.”

“I do not!” Louis declared indignantly.

“You do too Daddy,” Georgia piped up, her laughter shrieking and loud when Louis no doubt tickled her in retaliation. “And it’s okay Liam, I can just read if you want to sleep more?”

“Uh…no, it’s fine. I didn’t plan anything but we’ll come up with something fun anyway, yeah? We always do. Let’s let Louis and Harry go. I’m sure they’ve got lots of plans.”

“I hardly think brunch and a stroll down Oxford Street is “lots of plans” but still best we can manage with these buggered ribs. Three more weeks til freedom! Til then, ta babe, we’re off. And be good Rosie, Daddy always knows if you’re not.”

There came the sounds of Louis and Harry making their farewells and Georgia calling out goodbyes to them. Liam then apparently stood in the flat awkwardly, making several attempts at conversation before Zayn decided to just end it all, quick and fast. Pushing open the bathroom door, he dropped into a crouch a couple of feet away from Georgia. “Hey Little G.”

Georgia quickly looked between him and Liam, eyes wide. “You…Daddy says you’re not allowed here!”

“No, Daddy says he’s not allowed at the flat,” Liam corrected gently, not blind to the way Zayn’s face had fallen. “This is _my_ flat. I can let whoever I want come in here.”

Georgia pondered over that, chewing on her bottom lip. She eventually settled on frowning, hands landing on her hips as she swivelled towards Zayn. “Are you going to hurt Liam again? Because I remember saying we couldn’t be friends because you hurt Liam.”

“Geo-”

“No,” Zayn interrupted, holding up a hand. “It’s okay Liam; she’s right. That _is_ what she said to me.” He then turned to Georgia. “And I know I hurt Liam. He didn’t deserve that. But…I was really lucky last night because I was very sad and even though I was mean to Liam, he came and got me.”

Georgia’s anger quickly swapped to concern, instinctively stepping closer. “You were sad? Are you okay?”

“I’m not,” he replied, simply, honestly. “But Liam helped me.” He met Liam’s gaze over her head. “Now, can I talk to Liam quickly?”

“Five minutes,” Georgia told him sternly, flouncing over to Liam’s bed and switching on the tv. But even so, her eyes were locked on them and in that moment she looked so much like Louis that Zayn couldn’t help but laugh. She clearly fought one back but it didn’t stop her from trilling, “Four minutes!”

“Fucking hell,” Zayn muttered under his breath, yelping when Liam cuffed him over the back of the head. “Alright, alright, I…” It had become clear to him last night what he needed to do, what he wanted. Now, he just had to get it out. “I wanna go home.”

“Zayn, I really don’t think you should,” Liam said carefully. “I saw that text. You’re in trouble, I get it, and it’s okay to ask for help…if you need a place to stay, even just for a couple of nights-”

_“No.”_

His firm rebuttal had Liam reeling slightly, almost looking offended until Zayn reminded him,

“This is how we started, remember? This is _exactly_ what we did seven years ago. I’m not making that mistake twice.”

Liam’s shoulders deflated. “You’re right. Sorry. It was a dumb suggestion.”

“Yeah, it kinda was,” Zayn agreed, scrunching up his face playfully before swapping back to serious. “And that’s…That’s not what I meant anyway. By home, I mean. I meant, _home_. Bradford. My mum, my dad, my sisters.”

Liam’s mouth formed an ‘o’. He then collected himself, nodding. “Yeah. You know what, I think that’s a good idea. Spend some time with your family. It’s summer holidays soon; hang with…well, s’pose it’s only Safaa these days, isn’t it?”

“We’re so _old_ ,” Zayn bemoaned. “But yeah, I’m gonna do that. I need to sort myself out. I think…some people sort themselves out by _being_ with someone. And others, they have to sort _themselves_ out before they can be with someone.” He rocked back on his heels. “I think I’m one of those. I want to be content with who _I_ am, find who _that_ is, and then…then I’ll try again.”

Liam didn’t ask ‘ _with me?_ ’ but the question was obvious in his eyes. Which was why Zayn feigned ignorance, preferring to beckon Georgia over. She did so, her questioning face something he could focus on rather than the dejected slump of Liam’s shoulders.

“I’m going home,” he told her, even though she had to have heard. “I’m going to go very far away and…hopefully figure out a couple of things. You won’t see me here again and I… _we_ would appreciate it if…”

“You’re going to ask me not to tell Daddy,” Georgia sighed, hands wringing together. “I know you are Zayn. But last time Daddy and I lied about you, Liam got mad. Now you want me and Liam to lie about you and Daddy’s going to be super mad when he finds out.”

“He won’t find out,” Zayn promised, taking her hands in his. “He won’t because…” Zayn paused, releasing one of her hands so he could take one of Liam’s, drawing him down. The words were for both of them, but it was Liam’s gaze he held. “Because I might not ever come back. I don’t know what I’m looking for but it might not be in London at all. I’m saying goodbye.”

Liam looked crushed but Zayn only had a second to memorise that painful image before a small body flung itself into his arms. Georgia hugged him as tight as possible, Zayn doing the same. He snuffled into her neck, teased her cheek with his stubble, bopped their noses together before giving her a final kiss to the forehead.

“Love you Zaynie.”

“Love you Little G.”

“I hope you find the thing what you’re looking for. And if not, buy a map!”

She slipped off amidst Zayn’s chuckles but he could only ignore Liam for so long. Clambering back to his feet, Zayn blinked when Liam abruptly shoved a wad of cash into his hands. “What’s this?”

“Take it,” Liam said firmly. “Take it and buy a ticket to Bradford. I know you don’t have a lot of money right now so just take it. Let me do that much at least.”

Zayn shook his head. “No. This was my mistake, I’m going to fix it. I was the one that made the stupid, reckless choices. I was the one that didn’t look into things properly. I put me where I am now.”

“I know you did, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you fix it.”

“I-”

“Zayn, do you remember that time in freshman year when mostly high Louis decided it would be a smashing idea to build a treehouse in that tree behind our dorms?” Zayn nodded slowly. “And how we said it would fall down and he’d get hurt? But he built it anyway and insisted on climbing it even though we told him not to?”

“Yeah…”

“And when he fell out and broke his wrist, who took him to the A&E?”

“Us.”

“Even though it was his mistake? And we’d told him it was dumb?”

“I…” Zayn gave in, stuffing the money into his pocket. “Okay, fine. I get your point Liam. I…Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do especially…Especially if this is the last time I’m ever gonna see you.”

Oh fuck, he was tearing up. Zayn lunged forward, dragging Liam into his arms and holding him close. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He said those words over and over until Liam regained some composure, pulling away with a loud sniff that would have been unattractive on anyone else but only served to make him more adorable in Zayn’s eyes. He then pressed his lips to Zayn’s cheek, Zayn’s eyes fluttering closed.

“Good luck.”

Zayn gave Liam’s hand one last squeeze. “Yeah, to you too. You are aces, top lad, and my best mate.” With that, he collected the last of his things, Liam opening the door for him.

“Have a fun trip home Zayn.”

“I’ll try but I’ll miss you too much Liam.”

Before either of them collapsed into broken messes on the floor, Liam slammed the door shut and Zayn took off.

 

***

 

Standing at Paddington station, Zayn looked at the money in his hand one last time before dashing back to the ticket office. “Sorry,” he said to the lady at the counter, who, if her amused smile was anything to go by, clearly recognised him. “But I need another ticket. I wanna go somewhere else.”

New ticket in hand, Zayn then tore across to the flower shop on the other side of the station after a furtive look at the time. He spent every last pence he had on the biggest bouquet of flowers he could find. Getting them through the security gate and into the overhead compartment was a challenge he never wanted a repeat of, especially not with the many judgemental eyes that got sent his way. An old lady had even had the cheek to ask him, “missed the anniversary did we, love?” Zayn had, in retaliation, slumped down in his chair, tucked his headphones in, and proceeded to play the most offensive music he had at the highest volume he could. From her scandalised face, she could clearly hear. Good.

Two hours later, Zayn was knocking on the door, throat dry and palms clammy. Then the door opened and before she could even blink, Zayn was shoving the flowers into her hands.

“I haven’t figured out what to say to him yet or how to apologise but I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

There was a beat.

“Geoff, hold these please.”

The next second Karen Payne had him in her arms and Zayn cried. He cried and he cried and he cried.

 

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story's going to be a bit time-jumpey, just warning you all in advance but that's only because it's not as indepth as _Flour and Chocolate_. And yes, I quoted "This Is Us" in there. I am lame; it's true. XD .xx Dan


	3. Chapter 3

 

Zayn hadn’t known what to expect when he’d arrived at the door of his childhood home. His parents knew some of it, yes. They knew he’d broken up with Liam, even if the details he’d given them were sketchy at best. They’d slowly pried more and more answers out of him but he’d never told them about the disgusting thing he’d done at New Years. Part of him hoped they never found out. Another part berated him, scolded him for acting like a small child, telling him that he should just own up, come clean.

What he didn’t expect was for the door to open before he could even knock, his mother waiting on the other side.

“Well, are we coming inside then?” she asked when he remained stationery.

“I…” Zayn stumbled over the step. “Mum…how did you…?”

Trisha rolled her eyes. “Honestly Zayn. You stop by _Karen Payne’s_ house and expect her not to call me?” He flushed and she nodded. “Of all the places you could have gone…” she muttered as she led him through to the kitchen. She pointed at the floor and then a stool. “Put your things there and then sit. I’ve had enough.”

Zayn suddenly felt four inches tall and as frightened as he had that time he’d gotten caught after putting a spider in Doniya’s shoe when he was nine and saying Waliyha had done it. Under Trisha’s piercing stare, he did as asked, hopping up onto the stool and hunkering done. “Hi.”

“Yes, hi love,” she murmured, reaching out to stroke his hair for a moment before pulling away. “Now, words. You have them, use them.”

“…I don’t know what to do.”

As soon as the words were out, it was like the doors had been opened and his emotions got set loose. Zayn’s shoulders heaved as great sobs racked his body, head buried between his arms. There was the sound of shifting fabric and then his mother was at his side, holding him tightly and running her fingers across his scalp.

“What’s happened to you?”

“I don’t know!” Zayn cried, because it was true; he had never felt so lost, so confused, so not like himself in his life.

Trisha continued her soothing ministrations. “Do you want to talk? I think you need to.”

“Talk about what?” Zayn asked, messily wiping at his eyes. “Mum, I don’t even know where to _start_. Everything’s ruined! My whole life is-”

“Zayn, don’t be so dramatic,” she scolded, making him blink in surprise. “You’ve had your ups and downs but “ _your whole life?_ ” “ _Everything?_ ” Darling, whatever you broke, you can fix it. You can always rebuild, always start again. Mistakes are how we learn.”

“It’s not how we fall, it’s how we pick ourselves up what matters,” Zayn recited, his mother nodding.

“And so…what’s broken?”

“Me,” Zayn confessed, picking at the counter’s edge. “I don’t…I was making my way, you know? Doing galleries, selling my art, had an offer at a couple of places but I…I turned it down cause Shahid had a different job, a better job, yeah? And he…he made it sound so inviting.” Zayn’s was doing a good job of ignoring Trisha’s disapproving face. “I fell for it. I quit everything and followed him and…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s just say there’s a reason Lou’ doesn’t like him. Turns out he had every right to.”

“But you’re usually a good judge of character,” Trisha pointed out, frowning. “Why this time…?”

“I think because I was unhappy,” Zayn admitted, his turn to frown. “And before you ask me what about, don’t. Because that’s the one bit I haven’t been able to solve. But…yeah, once I broke the ties that I had and the new ones didn’t work out…I couldn’t get back to where I’d been; I’d burned those bridges. It spiralled, like, down and out of control, you know?”

“And did you hit the bottom?”

“Mum, I went _beyond_ the bottom.”

She hummed. “Which made you come home?”

He shrugged. “I s’pose. Figured if I was gonna pull myself together, where better to do it?”

Trisha eyed him up for a long time. “Is there anything you _are_ sure about?”

“I want Liam back.”

The room went dead quiet. Zayn imagined his mother’s eyes were as wide as his own because, yeah, he hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t actually _known_ that’s what he’d wanted until it had exploded out of his mouth.

Trisha’s frown returned full force. “I think you need to think about that Zayn. _Really_ think about. Because I love you, and you know that I do, but what you did…” He shrunk down – if only she knew. “…That was _not_ okay. You hurt him so badly. I mean, _for heaven’s sake Zayn_ , you all but threw him away like an odd plaything.”

“Mum…”

“He is a _person_ , and a very loving and kind one at that. I’m honestly surprised he even talks to you…although on the other hand I’m not because it’s _Liam_.” She bent down to meet his gaze, as watery as it was. “I’m not sure you really want Liam at all. I think you want to feel safe and secure and you _think_ that means getting back with Liam because the last time you felt like everything was okay was when you were with him. You need to figure out of you want _him_ or you want that _feeling_.”

When she put it like that, it made a lot of sense. It also made him more confused than ever because now Zayn didn’t know _what_ he wanted. The mess in his head didn’t have a clear answer. Maybe that was answer enough.

“You’re thinking about this.” His mother sounded relieved. “Good. Now,” she quipped, gesturing towards the back of the house. “Come with me.”

With a quizzical look, Zayn did as asked, tramping through the house and making an aborted sound when he stepped outside only to have a large plastic bag thrust into his arms. He was then spun around to find himself looking at a canvas that was nearly as big as his bedroom wall. The rattling sound from within the bag suddenly made more sense, Zayn opening it to find himself looking at an array of spray cans.

“Mum,” he whispered, touched.

She offered him a sad smile. “You always express your feelings better through art. Go. Hopefully it’ll all make sense.”

Zayn bundled her up in his arms. “Thanks Mum. I love you tons, yeah?”

“I know you do love, I know. I love you too.”

 

***

 

“Liam.”

Breaking out of his thoughts, Liam hid a frown behind the rim of his RayBans as Harry plopped down beside him. A little way away Louis and Niall had been coerced into joining a game of volleyball and Liam had been watching them with no great desire to join in. It was blistering hot and the only reason they were out at all was because Georgia had gone to Eleanor’s for two weeks and Louis had deteriorated into a pining mess, latching onto Harry and sulking whenever they were separated. And so, a day out to Regent’s Park had been organised. It just so happened that half of London had seemed to have the same idea as for what to do on a Sunday afternoon.

“Harry,” he greeted amicably, giving a tiny nod. “Hot enough for you?”

Harry fanned his sweat soaked singlet with disgust, Liam having long since shed his. “This weather’s so gross.” He toyed with his camera before huffing, turning to face Liam properly. “Can I ask you something?”

Liam gave a tentative nod, making Harry purse his lips.   

“Are you…are you okay?”

Liam removed his sunglasses so he could meet Harry’s gaze. “Why are you asking?”

Harry’s mouth gave an odd twist. “I don’t…I don’t know. You’ve been…off…for awhile now and I…I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Just by looking at his face, Liam could tell Harry was being genuine. Then again, Harry was _always_ genuine. Which was probably why he said, “You know that day you and Louis dropped off Georgia and I said I’d slept in?”

Harry gave the barest of nods, watching Liam rake a hand through his hair.

“I…Zayn was there.” Harry’s mouth curved down severely at the edges and Liam quickly threw out a hand to stop him. “I know, I know. Just…he was there to say goodbye. And not like that!” he snapped, sending his eyes skyward when Harry blushed sheepishly. “No, he…some things had happened and he’d needed someone to talk to. I did that and then, he decided he’d go home. Go home and sort himself out…” 

“Bradford, right?” Harry murmured. “I think I remember Lou’ saying that’s where he was from.”

“Yeah, he went there.” Liam’s hands shook on his knees. “In June.”

“June?” Harry repeated incredulously. “Liam, it’s _August_. You haven’t heard from him since?”

“No.”

“Were you expecting to?”

Liam squeezed his eyes shut, begging his voice not to hitch. “Yes.”

“Oh Liam,” Harry whispered, slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. “Why Li’?”

Liam shook his head, pushing Harry away a tad bit harsher than necessary. “Sorry,” he said immediately. “But…I know your views on the subject so it’s better we don’t talk about it.”

Harry looked stunned. Then his eyes narrowed. “You’re talking to him again. You…are you _trying_ to get back with him? Why would you-”

“And you wonder why I don’t talk to you. _Any_ of you.” Liam scoffed, picking at the grass by his feet. “Louis doesn’t listen, and okay, I understand why. But _you?_ What do _you_ even know Harry? You don’t _know_ Zayn. I’ve said that before.”

“Maybe I don’t _need_ to know him,” Harry objected. “I know Louis and I know what Louis thinks of him. And if Louis thinks he hurt you too much to be forgiven then what more do I need?”

“That’s Louis’ opinion,” Liam snapped. “And pardon me, but Louis isn’t always the quickest to forgive. He lives very much by a one-strike-you’re-out system. I don’t. And Louis’ not me. He doesn’t _know_ how I feel. And he isn’t Zayn either. Nor are you. Sorry but you don’t get to judge us when you don’t know our feelings.”

Harry looked honest-to-God taken aback. He then turned remorseful. “Liam…” he nervously placed his hand on Liam’s arm. “Sorry. You’re right. I _don’t_ understand. Could you tell me? I promise I’ll listen.”

Liam eyed him up for a long time before finally nodding. “Okay…so this is…Alright, have you ever gotten an idea placed in your head and at first it’s so ridiculous you ignore it but then it gets repeated over and over to the point that you actually start believing it?”

Harry cocked his head to the side. “Like propaganda?”

“I think so,” Liam mused, nodding to himself. “That’s what happened to Zayn. Well, from what I’ve gathered. He…someone - this guy called Shahid - kinda used Zayn, manipulated him, and messed him up. Like, seriously. I think _he_ messed up _Zayn_ more than Zayn messed up _me_ …Which is saying something.”

“But…” Harry’s eyebrows were scrunched together in thought. “He left you. Do you really think he could be convinced to leave you? Isn’t that…a bit much?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” Liam admitted. “But before you got with Louis, did you ever hear him bullshit his way through an excuse to the point where it was _so_ obvious he was trying not only to convince _you_ , but himself too.”

“I…yeah.”

Liam sent him a knowing looking. “Yeah, well that’s been Zayn the past couple of times I’ve seen him.” Liam shifted to frown at his lap, knotting his fingers together before saying, “You probably don’t know this Harry but when I was in high school, I hung out with a bunch of guys that used to talk about how gay people were weak and embarrassing and basically there to piss on. I already knew I was gay but I was too scared to tell them that. And you know, after hanging out when them for years, I _believed_ it. I let their words twist me so much. Then I went to uni. And got dormed with Louis. And maybe I said some things that were incredibly offensive.”

Harry’s eyebrows reached his hairline. “So _that’s_ why you and Louis didn’t get on at first.”

Liam laughed quietly. “Yeah, mostly. He took it personally and I don’t blame him. Louis then made it his sole mission to bring as many people back to our room as he could, didn’t matter what gender. And I resented him, because he was as confident as I wanted to be but I was being held back by what those people had put in my head, you know? And then…” his voice quietened, Harry inching closer because of the gentle smile that teased at his lips. “Then I met Zayn. You should have seen him Harry, really. Back in freshman year, he was so bloody adorable. Looked like this bad boy with his skateboard and that blond streak in his hair, but you could see it, see it from a mile away.”

“See what?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“That he wasn’t,” Liam said simply. “He was _so_ soft and gentle. He was quiet, yeah, but he was always the one to pass notes to someone that fell asleep in class or give away his lunch if someone obviously had no money. He used to tuck himself in the library after dark with his comic books and softly sing when he was painting if he thought no one was around. Harry, he was beautiful. He still is.” Liam ran a finger around where the engagement ring had sat for so many months. “All the while while I was pining after him, Louis kept parading people through the flat and then one morning, on the day I was planning to ask Zayn out, I blurted out, “ _I’m gay, right?_ ” Louis froze where he was.” Liam chuckled, as did Harry. “He never brought anyone back after that.”

“And you asked Zayn out,” Harry finished for him. “And then he moved in.”

“Yep,” Liam agreed. He then sighed heavily, flopping onto his back as slipped his shades back on. “But really, that was all just to say that people really _can_ put ideas in your head, even if you _know_ they’re wrong. And that… _that’s_ what happened to Zayn and…Harry, he’s _not_ happy. I can see it, plain as day. He’s not happy and I hate that fact. I might hate a lot of the things he’s done and I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive some of them but Harry, I don’t hate _him_.”

Harry hummed, lying down next to him. “I think I get it.”

“You know,” Liam murmured, frowning. “My mum actually texted me a couple of weeks ago, asking if I’d heard from him. It was super random because she knows we don’t talk about it anymore. It’s a bit of a sore spot in our family.”

“Zayn’s too, I imagine,” Harry guessed. “But…what did you say?”

“That I hadn’t. It was the truth.”

“You don’t think you’ll text him?”

Liam shook his head. “No. I think that this is it. I either lose him here or I get him back. And I can’t force that decision because I want it to be something Zayn does on his own. It’s his choice.”

“But what about you? It’s your happiness too.”

Liam shrugged, ignoring Harry’s pout. “Maybe. But I’d still rather let him decide.”

“Oi, Payno, get off your lazy arse and come help! And Haz, don’t let his abs distract you; I’m the one with the glorious arse!”

Louis’ voice echoed across from the volleyball field and both Harry and Liam burst out laughing. Flipping Louis off, earning an indignant screech, Liam got to his feet, reluctantly tugging his shirt on.

“Liam.”

Once again it was Harry’s voice that called him back, making him turn around and gesture impatiently.

“Zayn…He’s not coming back, is he? That’s what you meant by goodbye. He’s actually gone this time.”

Liam nodded around his suddenly blocked throat.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Rosie was there too, wasn’t she? There when he said goodbye? She was quiet when we picked her up.”

“She was,” Liam confirmed. “But…I think she understands.”

“I think she’s _trying_ ,” Harry corrected softly. “But Liam, for what it’s worth…I think Zayn’s an idiot for leaving you. I think _anyone_ would be very lucky to have you.”

Liam sent him a devilish grin, deciding he’d had enough of being down. “Oh? Does that mean you won’t object to me snagging Louis?”

Harry’s jaw dropped as Liam tore off, screaming in protest when Liam grabbed Louis around the waist and slung him over his shoulder. Louis flailed and kicked before Niall sent them all tumbling to the ground, the addition of Harry turning them into one large, bizarre dog-pile. It was also the most alive Liam had felt in months.

 

***

 

A week before summer hours ended and normal work hours resumed, Liam had made the trip up to Wolverhampton, choosing to spend the weekend with his parents rather than sit around in London on his own. As it was, him and his dad were sitting in the den, beers in their hands and the footy on the telly.

“Chelsea’s looking good this year,” Geoff remarked, watching them score yet another penalty goal with a sour look on his face.

“Knock it off,” Liam laughed. “They always come out of the box hard and fast. It’s the end of the season where they can’t seem to keep it together. West Bromwich Albion all the way.”

“Here here!” Geoff cheered. “So, what’s London got in store for you this year?”

Liam scrubbed the side of his face. “Nothing. I’m not in line for any promotions, not yet at least and…well, I’ve got no one on the romantic side so…”

“You and Zayn…?” Geoff hedged.

Liam groaned. “Dad, _no_. We’re not…we’re not _that_. I know I said we spoke for awhile but we don’t anymore. Look, I was stupid to get my hopes up.”

Because yeah, Liam had since been able to see it for what it was. Three months of metaphorical radio silence was a clear indication to _anyone_. Either Zayn hadn’t found what he was looking for or he was still searching but either way, it was quite apparent that that something was most certainly _not_ Liam. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he shouldn’t have felt hurt by it. But he was.

“Maybe…Maybe he, uh, just doesn’t know how to say sorry?”

Liam raised an eyebrow, taken off guard by his father’s wording and only becoming increasingly suspicious when Geoff made it a point to look anywhere but at him. “ _Dad_.” His voice had a warning edge to it. “What’s going on? Do you know something I don’t?”

“I…Look, if it hasn’t been mentioned then best I shouldn’t,” he said, hands gesticulating wildly.

“ _What’s_ not been mentioned?” Liam demanded, starting to get agitated and causing his mother to come to the doorway.

“Zayn came here.”

Liam dropped his beer, swearing as it hit the floor, hastily starting to mop it up. “ _What?_ What do you…Zayn was here? He came _here? When?!_ ”

“Liam, honey, calm down,” Karen urged.

 _“No!”_ Liam cried, dumping his mess onto the coffee table, visibly vibrating. “Zayn is my…my…”

Karen gave him an almost I-told-you-so look. “Zayn is your what? Liam, I’m sorry, but he’s not.”

“But he _could_ be,” Liam insisted, knowing how desperate he sounded. “He came here. _Here._ That means something. Mum, you _know_ it does. That’s why you never mentioned it.” He willed himself to calm down, pacing up and down the room. “When? When did he come?”

“A Saturday back in June,” Geoff told him. “Don’t remember the date.”

“You don’t need to,” Liam said because he knew. He _knew_. It was the day they’d parted ways. “What did he say?”

Geoff shifted uncomfortably. “Liam…”

“What. Did. He. Say?” Liam repeated, punctuating each word.

“He said he was sorry,” Karen spoke up, Liam’s eyes flying over to her. “Said he didn’t know what to say to you but he wanted to tell us he was sorry. Had the largest bunch of flowers I’ve ever seen.”

“He was also in tears.”

_“Geoff!”_

“He was _crying?_ He brought flowers and he was crying? This…Oh my god, _this_ was why you messaged me that time. _Mum!_ Why didn’t you tell me?”

Karen placed her hands squarely on her hips. “Because it doesn’t _change_ anything Liam. Maybe that boy _is_ sorry, but it doesn’t take back what he’s done.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it sure as hell helps.” What that, Liam spun on his heel and stomped to his room. So he was twenty-six and stomping up to his bedroom. In that moment, Liam really couldn’t give a damn.

 

***

 

“Don’t you ever find this boring?”

“Don’t you have something else to be doing? Like homework or screen-shotting dick pics to use as blackmail?”

Safaa laughed, dropping down onto the back step and watching as Zayn spray-painted his canvas for what had be the fiftieth time. At the end of every day he repainted it white, waiting for him to start afresh the next day. She watched him with a bored expression.

“Seriously though, you’re like that Adam Sandler movie. You know the one where the girl forgets everything all the time and her family reset it all every day?”

Zayn took a second’s break to toss over his shoulder, “What, you mean _Fifty First Dates?_ ”

Safaa snapped her fingers. “That’s the one. Zayn, _that’s_ what you’re doing. It’s pathetic. Get out. Live.”

 _“Oi!”_ Zayn threw down his spray can, peeling his mask over his head and flumping down beside her with a “ _budge over, come on_ ”. “I’ll have you know I’ve been doing a lot of odd jobs around the place! I’ve been helping people with translating things from English to Urdu so they can, like, go the doctors and the hospital and stuff. And Mum’s had me looking after God knows how many children because “ _I’m not doing anything_ ”.”

“Well, it’s not like you are,” Safaa said flatly. “You’ve been here over three months Zayn. You’ve got to do _something_.”

“It’s not like I haven’t tried,” Zayn protested, placated by the fact that she didn’t argue, only slipped her hand into his.

“I know. I know you’ve been trying. But I don’t think you’ve found what you’re looking for yet.” She disentangled their fingers and went to inspect his newest work. “Your paintings never make sense.” Safaa remained silent as Zayn came up behind her, wrapping his arms across her chest, chin propped on top of her head. “Does it make sense to you?”

“Sort of. It’s…it’s more emotions than anything. But, some bits,” he pointed to a spot where a splash of red was intertwined with a splash of yellow, “That’s Liam and me. Or at least, in my head. See, everyone’s got a colour, right? Liam’s red, I’m yellow, Louis’ blue. That there, were the colours meet, that’s when we were at the hospital and we, like, hugged for the first time in forever.”

“That’s disgusting.” He pinched Safaa’s side and she shrieked. “Stop it! It is! It’s also kind of sweet.” She then swivelled around so she could meet his gaze. “You still think about him then?”

Zayn tucked his head into his chest. “All the time.” His fingernails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists. “I think…I think I still love him.” He lifted his gaze, eyes hopeful. “Do you…do _you_ think I still do?”

She snorted. “Zayn, me and Doniya and Wahliya agreed you loved him forever when you got him tattooed on your arm, you great twat.”

Looking down at his right bicep, Zayn couldn’t hide the grin that came upon looking at the cartoon-ish Liam he’d gotten done just after their engagement. Needless to say, Louis had rolled his eyes with a disgruntled “ _oh for fuck’s sake Malik!_ ” while Liam…Liam had looked ready to come on the spot. Something about being a permanent part of Zayn had turned him on to levels Zayn had certainly not predicated…not that he had complained. Like, at all.

“Now, if you’re done with your mopey shit for the day-” Zayn whined but Safaa merely swatted him away, “-can you help me? I have this Shakespeare essay and…Honestly, I don’t have a clue.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You think I do?”

She rolled her eyes so spectacularly that Zayn felt a tad jealous. “I _know_ you do. Now come, help me.”

So Zayn did. They lounged across Safaa’s bed, plodding through Hamlet and various commentaries until his sister was confident she grasped it. Leaving her to write the actual essay – after giving out a couple of pointers – Zayn bounded back down the stairs. He wasn’t going to lie; there was an odd feeling of satisfaction in his chest. Finding his parents in the living room, Zayn dropped down into the armchair, folding his knees onto the chair and settling back with a smile. It was only after a few minutes had passed that he realised he was being watched. Casting his eyes sideways, he was just in time to watch his mother quickly look away.

 _“Mum,”_ he groaned. “What have I done now?”

“I don’t know,” Trisha replied, eyes raking over his frame sceptically. “What _have_ you done? Because, Zayn, you look _happy_.”

Zayn frowned because, as he’d thought himself only moments earlier, he _felt_ happy. He said as much. “But I was just helping Safaa,” he pointed out, shrugging lazily.

“You’ve been tutoring those boys next door,” Yaser commented, deep voice filling the room. “You always seem to have enjoyed doing that and they love having you around. And giving those impromptu English lessons.”

Zayn’s frown deepened. “And your point?”

“Perhaps this is it?” Trisha said gently, leaning forward. “Maybe _this_ is what you’ve been looking for.”

His expression was undoubtedly one of poorly masked confusion. Trisha sent him a look of exasperation in return.

“Zayn, you know your father and I have always supported you with everything you wanted to do. We supported you when you said you wanted to study Art at uni and even though we suggested you also pick up a second major it wasn’t because we didn’t have faith in _you_ …”

“No, I know,” Zayn interrupted, unsure as to where this was going. “Art’s a hard field to make it in. I get why you said that. I always understood.”

“But son, it was _you_ that chose to also major in Education,” Yaser pointed out. “ _You_ chose that as your second option and you…You’ve been happy doing that. What are your thoughts on taking that to a professional level?”

“Like, become a teacher?” Zayn asked, mulling it over because that…That actually didn’t sound like a horrible idea.

“You tell us,” his mother said. “Is that something you think you’d like to do?”

“I…” Zayn stared at his lap, forehead scrunched together. “I…Maybe. I think maybe yeah. But…” he met his parents’ eyes, spreading his hands helplessly. “I don’t have experience.”

“But you have the qualification,” Yaser countered. “Everyone has to start somewhere.”

“S’pose so, yeah. I think I’ll look into it, like properly. I’ll-”

“In London.”

Zayn’s thoughts careened to a halt, locking up at how dead serious his mother looked. “What?”

“You, look for a job in London.” She shook her head, beckoning for him to come sit between them. With great reluctance, Zayn did so, more than a little uptight by the way her hand came to rest on his. “I told you months ago to make up your mind about Liam.” She frowned. “Looking back, I think you already had. I think you _always_ knew. In fact, I’m confident that you did. That you _do_. You still like him.”

“Mum, why are you saying this? What made you change your mind?”

“Because,” she huffed, pulling out her phone and opening the camera roll, flicking to an album and showing it to him. “Look through that.” He did, mouth dropping open slightly because every photo was of the canvas out the back. “Every day I took a photo,” Trisha revealed. “Before you painted over it, I always made sure to photograph it. You have to be seeing the patterns there Zayn because even _I_ can and I’m not even sure I understand what half of that is.”

Zayn snorted out a laugh, vainly fighting against the moisture forming in his eyes. His mother was right though. In every photo he could pick out elements of Liam, of him, of their relationship.

“I have to ask though,” Trisha said, sounding horribly frustrated. “What is with the eagles and the roses? Why the sudden obsession? It’s not Georgia-Rose, is it? Because if it is…”

Zayn laughed loudly, sinking into his father’s side, Yaser giving him a light squeeze. “It’s not. They’re…they’re Liam’s newest tattoos.”

“Ah. That explains a lot then.”

Zayn nodded, scrolling until he reached the end of the album. He then turned and gave his mother a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for everything I ever did wrong and everything I did to disappoint you.”

“Zayn, love, you didn-”

“I did. And I’m so sorry. You raised me better than that. And I…I think it’s time I acted like a man.” He pushed himself to his feet, frame tight. “I’m gonna start looking for a job tomorrow – a full-time one. And through the advertisements of people wanting flatmates. I’m gonna make things right.”

 

***

 

Liam had his tea halfway to his lips when his phone went off. An idle check of the screen had him choking on said tea, spluttering rather unattractively and making him hastily excuse himself and duck into the bathrooms. Because it was October – _October_ – and yet there, on his screen, was a message from _Zayn_. Well, not a message, a picture. Liam fumbled with his passcode twice before finally managing to unlock the device. He opened the message, peering closely at the screen.

The picture was simple enough, a little badge that was clearly meant to be pinned onto a shirt or attached to a lanyard. But it was what was on the badge that made it so special:

_Mr Zayn Malik_   
_Class 1 – Cherry_

Liam couldn’t hide his disbelief, quickly thumping out a:

_You’re a teacher?!_

_I’m a teacher! :)_

So maybe Liam did a little happy dance in the bathroom. He was also grinning so wide his cheeks were hurting. He then messaged back a quick “ _yeah, well_ ” followed by a picture that said “ _I’m Batman_ ”.

_…you suck._

Liam outright beamed.

_You’re just jealous because I’m actually Batman._

_Whatever._

From that point on, Liam didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day. He hummed happily to himself as he typed away, earning him several concerned look from his co-workers, threw himself so much into his gym workout that his PT all but pleaded with him to calm down, and then skipped his way through his weekly grocery shop. As he dropped into his bed that night, Liam scrolled down the messages once more.

Zayn was back.

 

***

 

Zayn’s original message had come on a Monday – which made sense considering he was now a teacher. The sending of a picture had also somehow given their renewed friendship attempt an entirely different vibe from last time. Texts could be impersonal, pictures were real, tangible. And so, the next day, Liam sent back a picture of his ink covered hands after the printer had exploded on him. There hadn’t been a reply until after four and Liam sheepishly realised that, realistically, Zayn probably couldn’t have his phone within reach all day. Liam then laughed loudly – earning him odd looks from people on the tube and _dammit!_ \- did Zayn have to keep making him look like an idiot in public? He wasn’t even _there!_ – when Zayn replied with a picture of his hair matted with what looked like a combination of glue and glitter, eyes wide.

_I hate six year olds._

Liam snorted.

_No you don’t. You love Georgia._

_Okay, I love ONE six year old. Try having thirty of them. At ONCE._

Liam winced.

_Fair point._   
_Still, you chose the job._

_I love my job._

_I’m glad._

Wednesday was silence and then Thursday night Liam got a snap of Zayn’s new room, accompanied by the words “ _Shoebox was right_ ”. A more accurate description had never been made. Zayn’s new room – Liam supposed that’s what it was – had to be barely the size of his bathroom. The bed touched three out of the four walls and a half dresser was tucked between the bed and the wall on the other side. And that was the room filled.

_Christ. How does your stuff fit?_

_Luckily I don’t have much stuff at the moment._   
_Flatmates are great though. I got four of them._

_Wow. That’s a lot._

_Hey it was cheap so I’m not complaining._

Then, on Friday, came the text that blew the door open. Because Zayn hadn’t mentioned anything about his school’s location or his flat’s and so, perhaps naively, Liam had assumed he was still in Bradford. But on Friday afternoon, Zayn must have clocked onto Liam’s line of thought because what he sent was a picture of his school’s sign, _Bigland Green Primary School._

Liam didn’t know what to make of that, punching the school’s name into Google. And then it all became clear. Because – for better or for worse – Bigland Green Primary School was only a mile away from his work. A mile away from the building he was scheduled to walk out of in a half hour while Zayn was currently walking out of the door of his own work. It would only take Liam twenty minutes, thirty at most, to walk there. Zayn could be here by the time he clocked off. Liam swallowed thickly. He then pressed on Zayn’s details, lingering over his phone number before selecting ‘ _call_ ’.

_“Liam?”_

“Zayn.” He couldn’t keep the relief, the fondness, out of his voice. “You’re in London.”

 _“I’m in London,”_ Zayn agreed, voice carefully left blank. _“I…It occurred to me that maybe you hadn’t figured that bit out yet.”_

“Are you finished?” Liam blurted out, cutting Zayn off mid-stream. “Work, I mean. Have you finished work? Are you done?”

 _“Yes Liam, I’m finished work.”_ He sounded exasperated but Liam knew Zayn too well, he had probably gushing and hiding a smile behind his hand.

“Would you like to grab some dinner?”

Zayn sucked in a sharp breath and Liam winced, wondering if he’d been too forward. He nearly took it back when, “ _Yeah, we can do that. It’s what mates do, isn’t it? Catch up?”_

Mates, okay, they were mates. That was a good place to start. “Yeah, mates definitely do that. Do you, uh, do you want to meet at my work…if you remember what that is? I mean, unless you need to change. You can change if you want…Are you currently covered in glitter?”

Zayn barked out a laugh. _“No I’m not, thank God. And I know where you work Liam, of course I do. I can be there in fifteen since I’m already heading that way cause of the tube and all.”_

“Fifteen, great!” Liam chirped, figuring he could clock out early this once. “I’ll see you then.”

 _“See you then.”_ Liam went to hang up when, _“And Liam? It’s good to hear your voice again.”_

His heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, you too.”

 

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the chapter. Comments are appreciated. .x


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a massive thank you to everyone who's commented so far. It makes me so happy to know that people are enjoying this :D

 

The second the doors opened Zayn whirled around, shoulders sagging with relief when he saw it was Liam and it made Liam wonder, how many times _had_ Zayn spun around already, getting terribly embarrassed each time? The idea made him chuckle, even as he was loping down the stairs and pulling Zayn into his arms. Zayn went dead stiff and Liam swore, knowing he’d over-stepped a boundary he hadn’t even known was there. When he went to pull away though, it was _Zayn_ that tightened his grip.

“Just one more second,” he whispered, pleaded.

Liam breathed out an “ _okay_ ”, nuzzling into hair that was...”Blond? You’re blond? Why are you blond?”

“Hey!” Zayn squawked, pulling away and jutting his bottom lip out. “I’ll have you know that this look suits me.”

“I guess it does,” Liam agreed, because once he’d gotten over the initial shock it _did_ look good. “The beard gives a nice contrast.”

“Ugh, the beard needs a shave,” Zayn grumbled, rubbing at said stubble. “Just got too caught up in first week craziness to deal with it. I’ll scrub up for Monday.” He then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Pub or…?”

“No, pub’s good,” Liam said, nudging Zayn in the direction of the pub they used to frequent whenever Liam had had to pull long hours. “I’m not getting drunk though,” he established as they stepped inside.

“Yeah, me neither.” Zayn brushed him off with a vague wave, weaving through the crowd until he found a table, grimacing at the sticky residue on the tabletop but knowing it was the best they were bound to find.

Liam dropped in beside him, hands clasped together on the tabletop. Zayn’s fingers inched towards the menu, which was so ridiculous because they’d been here so many times. They knew everything on the menu – could probably recite the bloody thing. Zayn seemed to realise that, snatching his hands back last minute, glancing once in Liam’s direction before staring unwaveringly at his lap. It was so goddamned awkward that Liam had to say something, _anything_ , and well he may as well get his two cents in because he wanted Zayn to know exactly what this was, what he could expect. He-

“I want us to be just mates, yeah?”

Liam jerked at Zayn’s words, wide eyes flying to him. Zayn was nervously bouncing his leg and his shoulders were laced with nerves but it didn’t stop him repeating it,

“I just want to be friends, okay? Don’t-”

“Thank _God_.”

It was Zayn’s turn to snap his head up, mouth dropping open. “You…”

Liam nodded firmly. “ _Friends_. That’s what I want this to be. Two friends who catch up like normal people, message each other like normal people. That’s…that’s where I want to start,” he admitted.

Zayn quirked an eyebrow. “Start?”

Liam didn’t rise to his goading. “Yes, start.”

“And if it goes further…?”

“ _Will_ it go further?”

Zayn’s mouth promptly snapped shut. “I…”

The point was made though, Liam leaning back in his chair. “Like I said, _start_. Now, let’s order some food and then you need to talk Zayn because where the bloody hell have you been all summer?”

So over a couple of beers, a piece of fish and a burger, a shared plate of chips, and many blatant exaggerations, Liam let Zayn regale the tales of his summer. He asked questions and answered the ones Zayn asked in return, chest that little bit lighter every time Zayn would lean in slightly at his answers. It had to be close to eleven before they parted ways and Liam felt secure in the knowledge that while there was no expressed desire to take anything further, there was no objection either.

 

***

 

Before Liam had even realised it, December had rolled around. The sky was darkening at ridiculously early hours of the afternoon, the air was crisp and frigid, and he was bundled in scarves and trench coats. Work was heading towards that chaos that always seemed to arrive right on the dawn of the Christmas period. He said as much in his text to Zayn as he slipped in the door of Georgia’s primary school. Zayn’s reply of:

_Nooooo. Liam, hell is gonna descend!!!_

had him chuckling to himself, more than a little smitten with how things were going between them. The messaging had initially varied between awkward silences and landslides of texts before they’d shifted back into the rhythm they’d had for years. There was teasing, odd pictures, snippets of serious worries or concerns, ugly selfies in a war that had lasted nearly a week. And, on top of that, there were the little meet ups he and Zayn had nearly every fortnight…Although, if Liam was being honest, it was basically weekly at this point, maybe even more like two or three times a week.

Like the time Zayn had remembered at 10 P.M. that he’d promised his class they could make parkin for Bonfire Night only to discover he had none of the ingredients and Liam had offered to pop round and run to the nearest 24 Hours Sainsburys with him.

Or the time Liam had sent a picture of himself cold and miserable at his desk after forgetting his umbrella in the morning and Zayn had turned up during his lunch hour with his favourite leather jacket in tow, assuring Liam he could _borrow_ it.

Did Liam still have it? Yes. Was he planning on admitting that any time soon? No.

Reaching the door of Georgia’s classroom, Liam slipped his phone into his pocket, waving at Georgia when she spotted him. Saying goodbye to her friends, Georgia collected her belongings and bounced along beside him, shucking on her coat at his prompting before they stepped outside.

“You’re very happy today,” Liam remarked as Georgia skipped past the bakery, tapping on the glass and waving furiously at Niall when he looked up.

“Well, you see Liam,” she said grandly, giggling when Niall poked his tongue out in response before serving his next customer, leaving them to head to the flat. “It’s almost my birthday. _Of course_ I’m excited. And Daddy even said I could have a party.”

“He did,” Liam concurred. “And where are you having your party?”

“It’s only a little one,” Georgia told him, craning her neck to look for cars before crossing the street. “But we’re going to have it at home and Harry promised to make my cake! I asked for a winky-wonky rainbow cake with a rainbow heart inside and Harry said he could do it!”

Liam, for the life of him, had no idea what Georgia was even _attempting_ to describe but if Harry understood and said he could do it…Well, if there was anyone who _could_ , it would be Harry.

As he unlocked the flat using the key Louis had always let him keep and never asked for back, Georgia continued to prattle on, “I’m only inviting a couple of friends because our flat is really tiny-” It _really_ wasn’t, comparatively speaking, “-and it’s too cold to have a party outside. But Riley is coming. And Violet. Oh, and even Dennis because he’s not so yucky now.”

Liam laughed, hanging up their coats and heading into the living room. As Georgia continued to explain her party in infinite detail, the pair of them spread out their homework and work respectively, Liam typing away while Georgia methodically plodded through her times tables. Once she had finished, Liam passed the girl his phone, letting her play that stupidly addictive cat game Zayn had put him on to. He was halfway through re-reading a new client contract when he heard Georgia gasp. Whirling around, Liam saw her staring at the phone, eyes wide. He heard the distinct sound of a message coming through…although, no, that was the sound of a message coming through _after_ the app had already been opened meaning that…

Shit.

Liam lunged for the phone but Georgia had already seen. Her expression wasn’t angry however, just quizzical. And her button nose was screwed up a little, which made Liam raise his eyebrows, bemused.

Looking down, he sighed when he found himself looking at a picture of Zayn. _Of course_ he was. A…okay, a downright fucking _hot_ picture of Zayn, showing his gorgeous side profile with the stubble that was stubbornly staying, as well as a new pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

_Why did I pick these hipster as frames?_

A second message underneath was the reason for Georgia’s frown though, if Liam had to guess.

_Hey, I know it’s probs not okay and I don’t know how to swing it, but what should I get G for her birthday?_   
_Lou’ and I aren’t cool but I never missed one of her birthdays, yeah? Feel kinda shitty if I did now._

“Liam?” Georgia’s voice was hushed, her knees tucked up against her chest. “Are you and Zayn friends again?”

And how was Liam to lie under those big blue eyes? With another heavy sigh, Liam pushed himself up until he was on the couch next to Georgia, pulling her in and grateful when she came without protest. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Zayn and I…we talk. We’ve been talking for awhile now. Sometimes we even go out together.”

Her expression turned pinched. “On a date? Out like Daddy and Harry?”

“No, no, no,” Liam said quickly, shaking his head. “No, we’re just friends. We do things as friends, not as boyfriends.”

Georgia was silent for a long time. Her next question had Liam’s breath catching in his throat. “Why don’t you do things as boyfriends?”

“I…because…” he spluttered, scratching at his cheek awkwardly. “Because we did that, didn’t we? And it…didn’t work?”

“Because Zayn hurt you,” Georgia said a nod. “But…” she frowned at her sock with frightening intensity for a near eight-year-old. “But Liam, when you saw his picture on your phone, you _smiled_. I saw you. You don’t smile if you’re sad. You were happy. _Zayn_ made you happy.” Her gaze lifted back to his. “Doesn’t that mean you can be boyfriends again?”

Liam swore his heart had stopped beating. “I…Do you…Isn’t that a bad idea?”

“Why would it be bad if it made you happy?” Georgia asked innocently.

“Because it went so badly last time,” Liam reminded her…before sharply reminding _himself_ he was having possibly the most in depth discussion he’d had regarding Zayn with a _child_.

Georgia, to her credit, merely shrugged. “Harry says that just because something goes badly once doesn’t mean you don’t try it again. He has to make lots of things a lot of times to get it right. And I’ve seen Daddy draw the same house more than _five_ times-” The way she said ‘ _five_ ’ made it sound like it was the largest number in existence, “-before he’s happy with it. He always says something was wrong the first time so he has to fix it. And, and!” Georgia bounced up and down on her bottom, “Zayn said he had to figure some things out. Maybe he did! Maybe you can fix it now!”

“Georgia…” Liam breathed.

She flung her arms around him. “I think Zayn’s a bit stupid sometimes and he does mean things but he still always made you smile. You don’t smile without him Liam. I like it when you smile.”

That last sentence was mumbled into his chest but it was the sentence that broke him, Liam curling around Georgia and holding her with everything he had. She burrowed into his shoulder, letting herself be held until there were no more tears to fall. When he pulled away, it was her that grabbed the tissues from the kitchen, handing them to him and swinging her feet as he blew his nose.

“Boys’ noses are too noisy,” she informed him once he was done.

Liam chuckled, watching her grin at his response. He then kissed her forehead on his way to the bin. “Thank you love, really.”

“It’s okay,” she chirped. “And I know Zayn being home is a secret so I won’t tell Daddy…”

There was an implied ‘ _but_ ’ there, making Liam raise his eyebrows. “Yes Georgie?”

Her expression could only be described as triumphant. “ _You_ have to tell Zayn that I want a _Harry Potter_ colouring book for my birthday.”

Liam frowned. That wasn’t so…

“ _And_ pink shiny boots like what Harry has.”

Shit.

Liam groaned as Georgia skipped past him on her way to her room, poking her tongue out.

Pink, shiny boots. Like Harry’s. Like the ones Louis threatened to set on fire near daily. Like the ones he swore he would never get within an inch of his daughter.

Liam was fucked.

 

***

 

Years of being a parent had made Louis a master of the skill of knowing when someone – specifically a very small someone – came to stand by the side of his bed. Not even being in the deepest of sleeps could make him immune to this. Which was why Louis found himself momentarily confused when he jerked awake at _11:34 P.M._ that night. That is, until he caught sight of the shadowy figure at the side of his bed.

“Georgia?” he slurred, blindly reaching out and clasping her wrist. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Wanna…” she trailed off and Louis suddenly felt one hundred times more alert.

“Georgia, what’s wrong?”

She gave a tiny sniff. “I…Daddy, please don’t be angry but I…I…”

_Fuck._

Louis had the bedside light switched on before he even had time to think, flying upright and scooping Georgia into his lap. Harry’s arm was subsequently ripped from his waist, causing the younger man to startle awake, eyes dazed and confused.

“Lou’…?”

“Shh,” Louis chided gently, nursing Georgia closer and watching as Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of Georgia’s face.

“Hey angel, what’s wrong?”

Even as Harry was sitting up and shuffling closer, Louis was rubbing Georgia’s back consolingly. “She hasn’t said yet but…” he turned his attention down, frowning at the scared eyes that looked back at him. “Baby, I’m not going to be mad. Whatever it is, you can tell me. Us.” He slipped a hand into Harry’s, interlacing their fingers, Georgia following the action intently. “I promise we won’t get angry. And Harry promises too, yeah?”

“Of course,” Harry said instantly, tucking a strand of Georgia’s hair behind her ear. “You can, like, always talk to us. About _anything_.”

She didn’t look quite sure if she believed them which was odd. Once upon a time Louis would have taken it personally, seen it as a blow to her trust in him. Now it had him wondering what on earth she could be wanting to ask that had her up this late at night and nearly in tears at the very idea of mentioning it to him.

Her next words were aimed at her lap. “Can Zaynie come to my birthday?”

Louis’ mind screeched to a halt. What? Fuck. _Fuck no_. What…Oh god, what was this fresh hell? “Georgia,” he said, slowly, cautiously. “Baby, you _know_ Zayn doesn’t come here anymore. I’m sorry, but he doesn’t.”

“But he could come to my adult birthday!” she wheedled.

Louis shook his head firmly. “No. He’s not…not anymore. With him and Liam, it’s…”

“But he came last year! Even though him and Liam weren’t boyfriends anymore! He can come with Niall and Ed and-”

“Georgia, he can’t.” It was Harry that interrupted her this time, but his eyes were soft rather than steely. “Even if we wanted him to.”

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis warned because _no_ , that was not happening. Zayn wasn’t worming his way back in. Not this time, not again.

Harry sent him a strained smile before shifting his attention back to Georgia. “Because Zayn’s gone. You remember that, right? Liam said he was gone. You said goodbye.”

Louis ground his teeth at that because _of course_ Harry hadn’t been able to keep it from him and while he still hadn’t let on to _Liam_ that he knew, that didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed. And perhaps slightly relieved because the further Zayn was from them, the less he could hurt them. Twice was enough. No need to make it into a living third-time’s-a-charm scenario.

“But what if he’s back?” Georgia asked with wide eyes.

“Except he’s not,” Louis stated, frowning when Georgia opened her mouth only to snap it shut again. “And _even_ if he was,” he continued, brushing the thought away, “My answer would still be no. Because I don’t like to see my friends get hurt and Liam is my best mate. For Liam’s sake, Zayn needs to stay gone. And I’m sorry Rosie, really I am, but that’s how it has to be.”

Georgia nodded glumly, clambering down from the bed. She reached the door before turning around, chewing on her lip before asking, “But if Zayn coming back made Liam better, would he be able to come visit?”

Oh, Louis was more than suspicious now. “Georgia-Rose, what do you know that I don’t?”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “ _Nothing_. I was just _asking_.”

With that, she shut the door and disappeared back down towards her room. Louis was half-tempted to follow but then, Georgia hadn’t looked as though she was lying. Shaking the thoughts away, Louis flipped off the light before tucking his head into Harry’s neck. Harry’s arms came to wrap around his back, lips ghosting over his hairline.

“You did the right thing,” Harry murmured, thumbing at his shoulder. “She needs to let him go.”

Louis sighed. “And how is she supposed to do that when he somehow keeps turning up?”

Harry had no answer to that but Louis hadn’t expected any different. They’d drifted back to sleep not long after and their week had continued much as they always did. On Saturday Georgia had her party, so busy with her friends and her presents that she didn’t have time to think about anything, or _anyone_ , else. Harry’s cake had also reduced her to a squealing mess, not that Louis could blame her; they’d be eating the rainbow monstrosity for _weeks_. But Sunday evening, when Liam arrived at the flat not long after Ed, she’d sunk down, eyes on the door as if waiting. Her look when she’d eventually gone to bed was something akin to heartbroken and Louis had composed a long, strongly-worded text to Zayn before Harry had wrestled the device off of him and pointed out that even _if_ he had a point, it wasn’t _Zayn’s_ fault. Zayn had asked for no part in this. Louis had begrudgingly agreed.

And then, of course, the next morning a parcel had arrived. There had been no return address and Louis had been tempted to throw the thing away when he saw the ‘ _Z Malik_ ’ written in the sender’s description but _Georgia_ had answered the door. Answered the door and ran down the hallway screaming, waking Niall up in the process and bringing them all to the living room. Louis had already composed the text saying, _Fuck you Malik_ , when Georgia turned to Niall with the biggest smile.

“Zaynie didn’t forget me after all! He still loves me Ni’!”

Reluctantly, Louis typed out, _thanks_ , sending it before tossing his phone away. Ten minutes later the phone was back in his hand because,

_FUCK YOU MALIK_

Attached for good measure was a picture of Georgia in a pair of fucking shiny, pink boots and why on earth was Zayn stalking Harry’s Instagram and then forcing Harry’s poor life-choices on his daughter?! Louis groaned as Harry ran off to find his pair so that he and Georgia could match on the way to school. God help him.

 

***

 

So engrossed was he in watching Liam tear around the field, Zayn didn’t even notice someone approaching him until said someone literally dropped down beside him. Well, half-crashed into him would be a more accurate description. Zayn leapt a good foot in the air, swearing profusely and throwing a scowl to his left…only to come up short when he found himself coming face-to-face with Niall.

“Um…”

Niall’s eyes crinkled up as he smiled. “What? Did you think I wouldn’t recognise you because your hair’s different?”

Zayn tugged on the blond strands subconsciously, slinking down lower in his seat. “No…Well yeah, ‘cause like, no one else has ever noticed me.”

“So…how many of Liam’s games this season have you _actually_ come to then?” Zayn refused to answer and Niall looked all too proud. “Am I to take that as all of them?”

“Shut up,” Zayn grumbled, slapping Niall when he went to speak because Liam had just been given the ball and was flying down the pitch. The obstructing leg of an opposing player stole the ball away and Zayn was confident his face was a perfect mirror of Liam’s disgruntled one.

“Holy shit…”

Niall sounded so in awe that Zayn spared him his attention, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Niall chuckled, holding up his hands. “Just…You and Liam are so fucking in sync, you know? You two’ve got this.” He proceeded to gesture vaguely. “Whatever ‘ _this_ ’ is.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Zayn snapped because Niall’s team wasn’t playing which meant either he’d come to watch Liam and Louis on his _own_ – meaning they’d undoubtedly be looking for him in crowd, leading them straight to Zayn – or he was here _with_ someone – and that someone was most likely looking for him. And it wasn’t like Niall was the quietest person of earth. Zayn may as well have strapped a neon sign to his head. So much for being discrete.

Niall dutifully ignored him, only settling in further and propping his feet up on the seat in front of them. “Nope. Harry and Georgia came to watch Lou’ and I figured since I had a bye I’d come along. Told them I was gonna sit with some mates. Between Georgia’s that’s-my-daddy and Harry’s that-arse-in-those-pants, I don’t really think they’re going to miss me.”

Zayn threw his head back in laughter. That laughter stopped dead when Niall slung an arm around his shoulder. Zayn physically reeled, hand clutched to his chest, eyeing Niall up apprehensively.

“You actually have no ability to chill, do you?” Niall snorted, keeping his arm firmly in place. “You act all cool but you’re more highly strung than any of us. Relax and be my fucking friend you great shite.”

Zayn folded his arms. “Why?”

If he’d ever thought Niall wasn’t bright, that thought got obliterated when Niall asked, “Why as in why I am being nice and talking to you or why as in why I am being nice and talking to you when it’s no secret that no one else would?” Niall then shot him the flattest look ever. “But then that’s not true either, is it? Because _Liam_ talks to you. All the time. For months. Doesn’t he?”

Zayn’s jaw dropped. “How…?”

Niall flicked his ear, making him whine childishly. Niall stared at him incredulously before laughing. “Mate, you’re hilarious. But, to answer your question, I notice shit. And Liam’s changed a lot lately. Since not long after she,” he nodded towards where Zayn could see Georgia sitting beside Harry, “went back to school. What’s that?...Four months ago now?” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’d say new love interest but Liam never mentioned anyone and really, why wouldn’t he mention someone new? Unless, you know, they weren’t new.”

Zayn chewed on his bottom lip, eyes downcast. “But…like, you…I was gonna say hate but I don’t think you do that…”

Niall beamed, only confirming his hypothesis.

“Shouldn’t you not like me?”

Niall snorted. “Don’t think it’s any of my business. Zayn, I saw you sitting in these stands for _years_. And that was before I even knew you. And when I found out that you and Liam had…you know, split…I thought, that kind of dedication doesn’t just go away. When my parents’ split, you could see them grow apart, yeah? You didn’t seem to do that.” He hummed thoughtfully. “It’s more like…cold feet. Like those couples that live together for years and have kids and everything but then as soon as they get married, it’s all over. I always thought that was what you did. Got scared of the commitment. Too much too soon. That little doubt of maybe you were too young. I don’t know.”

Zayn’s eyes were misted over and he probably would have hugged Niall if he was little more affectionate. As it was, Niall rolled his eyes at him before pulling him in.

“I think you’re right.” Zayn’s words were addressed to Niall’s collar but it didn’t matter. “I _wasn’t_ happy and I know now that it was because of that doubt, that lingering feeling, the little niggling. Liam never seemed to have that. He always just seemed to know I was the one. I…”

“You had to make sure,” Niall said, prying him away gently and turning back to the match. “Do you want to, then? Get back with Liam?”

Zayn’s hand curled into a fist on his chest, looking down at the pitch and easily finding Liam; as always. He watched Liam dodge and pass the ball to Louis, who took off with a fiery passion, the faintest of smiles teasing at his lips. “I…”

“Zayn, don’t fucking bother.” When Zayn looked over in confusion, he found Niall’s gaze locked onto the hand that was still clenched tight, clutching onto- “It’s the ring, isn’t it? You’re wearing the engagement ring.”

Nodding mutely, Zayn pulled the chain out from under his jacket, rolling the ring – the ring that had endured so much – in his palm. “I…I’m not wearing it like it deserves to be but…I couldn’t…When Liam gave – and by gave I mean _launched_ , which I fucking deserved – it to me, I nearly threw it away. But I…in the end I couldn’t and I kept it. I kept it in my rucksack until I fell asleep on the bus once and nearly forgot it. Frightened the shit out of me so I bought a chain to put it on. Didn’t even mean to wear it until…until I came back here and decided what I wanted.”

“And you want Liam?” Niall guessed.

 _“Yes.”_ It was the first time he could say it so confidently, not even a hint of hesitation in his voice, jaw set. “I want him back and I would swim over a fucking ocean if I had to.”

“You might have to,” Niall remarked, pinching Zayn a little too sharply to be playful. “It’s going to take a lot to prove this time that you’re not going to walk out the second things get tough again.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” Zayn said simply. “Even if it takes five _days_ or five _years_ , so long as Liam will still have me, I’ll give my life to get him back.”

A hand clapped his back. “You’re alright Zayn. Hell, I’d go as far as to say I even like you.”

They exchanged smiles before Niall tottered his way back to Harry. Zayn watched him until he was seated and then turned his attention back to Liam. And okay, _maybe_ Liam didn’t quite contend with Louis in the arse department but Zayn also wasn’t going to jeer at Harry’s love of Louis in his footy kit because…well, when it came to Liam in _his_ …Yeah, Zayn wasn’t much better.

 

***

 

“But it’s freezing!”

“Well then hurry up and grab the fucking thing so we can go home!”

Zayn screamed as Liam shoved the hand he’d just had in the freezer down the back of his shirt. Satisfied with his revenge, Liam muttered one last complaint before grabbing the tub of mint-chip ice-cream and adding it to their basket. They were met with disapproving looks once they reached the check-outs, Liam flushing sheepishly while Zayn merely remained indifferent. Thanking the check-out clerk, Liam passed Zayn one of the bags before gesturing for him to lead the way.

“Why’s it so cold out?” Zayn demanded around chattering teeth as they weaved through the evening crowds.

“Probably something to do with the fact that it’s December in London,” Liam drawled, smiling innocently when Zayn scowled at him.

“Remind me why you think you’re funny?” Zayn asked, taking a left and then adjusting his bag so he could unlock the door in front of him.

“Admit it, you find me funny too,” Liam ribbed as Zayn jogged up a flight of stairs to reach his flat door, waiting for Liam before stepping inside.

“That I definitely don’t,” he said before dumping everything on the table. He shouted a greeting which got echoed back by four distinct male voices. “Luke, Mikey, Calum, and Ashton; all interchangeable,” Zayn explained as he dropped down on the sofa.

“Consider me offended,” Ashton chuckled as he entered the room, waving at Liam on his way to the fridge. “And finally bringing your boy round huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “That got anything to do with the fact that we’re all heading out?”

“Ooh, Malik’s gonna get it on,” Calum sang from the hallway, Ashton cackling when Liam went bright red.

“Ignore them,” Zayn said, shooting Ashton a warning look because they’d discussed this. Ashton looked vaguely apologetic, quickly ducking back down the hallway. “Come on,” Zayn coaxed, patting the space beside him as Liam hovered awkwardly just inside the doorway. “Li’, movie night. We agreed movie nights were okay.”

Some of the tension dropped out of Liam’s frame as he toed off his shoes. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s fine.”

“Besides, we already bought all this shit,” Zayn remarked, fossicking through the bags and passing a beer to Liam, as well as tipping out every other variety of food they’d purchased. “I, for one, am not letting it go to waste.”

There was no denying that Liam was edgy about being in Zayn’s flat for the first time since they’d re-established contact. Even after they’d originally broken up they’d only been to each other’s new flats once; Liam’s when Zayn had had his break-down in June, and Zayn’s when Zayn had, well, fucked everything up. Every other interaction they’d had had been at Louis’, or that one time at Harry and Niall’s. In some ways, this was unchartered territory for them.

“So, thoughts?” Zayn prodded, tucking his ankle under his knee.

“Um…” Liam tugged on the edge of his shirt. “I don’t…I don’t know, really. Like, whatever you want…?”

Zayn huffed, unimpressed. “Okay, then _I_ want what _you_ want. So, what do you want?”

Liam pouted at him, running a hand through his hair. “Well…I mean, it’s cliché but like…I haven’t really…I haven’t watched many of the latest Marvel movies or like, not with anyone who really…?”

“Geeks out the same?” Zayn supplied, wicked grin covering his face. “Fuck yes!” He bounded over to the DVD collection, pulling out four cases and holding them up for Liam to examine. “ _Guardians of the Galaxy_ and then all the ‘two’s? Like, _Cap 2, Thor 2, Avengers 2?_ ”

Liam couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re such a nerd.”

“He really is.” Zayn whipped around at Luke’s voice but he simply shrugged. “Hope you can endure it man.”

Liam sent Zayn a teasing smile. “Think maybe I can.”

Zayn snorted as he popped the first disc in and returned to the sofa. “Like you’re not just as big of a nerd as I am. Remind me, which of us owns Batman underwear?”

“Quiet you,” Liam scolded, oblivious to the raised eyebrows Zayn was receiving from Luke over his head.

“Anyway, we’re off. Any suggestions as to where we should go?” Luke asked after shouting for his flatmates to hurry up.

“Where’re Niall and Ed at tonight?” Zayn asked after a moment of contemplation.

Liam consulted his phone. “The Porterhouse.”

Zayn gave Luke a thumbs up. “Head there then. Top music and quality lads. Niall’ll treat you right.”

“Cheers,” Luke said as the others finally joined him, pulling on their coats and ducking out the door, though not without snagging some food off the table despite Zayn’s protests.

“No Netflix and chilling!” Mikey called just as the door slammed shut.

“Sorry they’re so shitty,” Zayn apologised as he settled back in to Liam’s side. “You learn to love them though.”

“Zayn, they’re not even that bad,” Liam reasoned, sipping on his beer and maybe turning ever so slightly so Zayn was tucked in closer. “They actually seem quite cool.”

“They are.”

They settled into typical “movie-mode” after that, swapping snacks and beverages and discussing theories and plot-holes. Zayn progressively curled more and more into Liam’s side, drawn to the warmth and the soft drawl of Liam’s voice, the rumble of his chest whenever he spoke. They whinged and whined and argued over who would get up to put the next movie in, a scissors-paper-rock game turning sour when Zayn lost and his retaliation was to push Liam off the sofa altogether. He may or may not have had a packet of crisps tipped onto his head in retaliation – _Liam, you tit! The salt’s gonna ruin my hair!_ – but it had had the desired effect of Liam giving up and putting _Thor_ in.

Zayn’s sweater was next to go after Liam accidentally spilt beer on it while ranting about Loki, though Zayn merely rolled his eyes in fond exasperation and tossed the article of clothing somewhere behind him. Liam’s eyes were raking down his arms and Zayn subconsciously rubbed at the tattoos receiving the most scrutiny, ones a little old to him but new to Liam. Liam gently reached out to trace them, fingertips running across the checkered flag and the delicate lotus petals.

“You’re still there, yeah?”

Liam frowned up at him. “Pardon?”

“You,” Zayn murmured, pushing up his shirt’s sleeve on the other side and exposing his tattoo of Liam. “I never…I never thought about getting rid of you, of covering it up or removing it.”

Liam raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything, silent as Zayn took his hand and ran his thumbs over the three roses that now lay there.

“You and these flowers Li’. So many,” he tutted.

Liam blushed. “Maybe I just like them. And you can’t scold me on how many I’ve got. You’ve probably got even more new ones, don’t you?”

It was Zayn’s turn to blush, skin acquiring a delicate pink hue. “Maybe…” Under Liam’s challenging look, Zayn sighed, pushing up his left sleeve. “Wasn’t like there was much room left, was there?” he grumbled, the spot for his newest ink in the gap that lay between his lotus flower and the tiger on his upper arm.

“Can I…?”

Zayn held his arm out at Liam’s request, Liam leaning forward. He then inhaled sharply, willing his eyes not to find Zayn’s because…okay, Liam didn’t know _what_ to think. There were two tattoos, one above the other but _just_ out of alignment. Closest to the inside of his bicep lay a tattoo of a rose; a rose, like Liam suddenly had so many of. Underneath it and a little more towards the outside was a skeleton hand holding a cigarette. Curved around the top and bottom were the words, ‘ _paradise_ ’ and ‘ _warzone_ ’. He could barely bring himself to touch the ink but when he did, a jolt ran down Liam’s spine because the skin may not have been red but it was raised. Raised, as in: _holy shit_ , this tattoo had to be barely a _week_ old.

_“You…”_

“Leave it,” Zayn said, removing his arm with a shake of the head.

Liam straightened. “Why?”

Zayn eyed him up. “Because do you _really_ want the answer to those questions?” His hand inched towards the chain Liam had recently noticed was always around his neck but, at the last minute, it was as though Zayn remembered Liam was there and quickly snatched his hand away, sitting on it for good measure.

It was all just another question to add to the list but, as much as Liam hated to admit it, Zayn was right. He _didn’t_ want those answers. Not yet. Hope was starting to rekindle in his chest, Zayn had slowly been dropping more and more hints. At first Liam had rebuffed them, ignored them, too cautious to accept them but over the past couple of weeks, he’d started accepting them, leaving the door open a crack. And every time Zayn came back, pushing that door open a little wider.

But Zayn was right because Liam _wasn’t_ ready for that door to be flung open. Not yet anyway. He needed more time, a little bit longer to decide whether he was ready to jump over his cliff. Because that’s what it felt like he was doing. Cliff-jumping. The only question left was, did he have absolute faith that Zayn was waiting on the other side, or was he headed straight for a fall? Did he have faith in Zayn? Sure, as much as anyone. But was it _absolute_ faith? Definitely not.

“Liam?”

Liam blinked, Zayn’s voice bringing him back to the present. His forehead was pinched together in worry and Liam sent him a smile, bumping their shoulders together. “Stop worrying. But you’re right,” he admitted. “I’m not ready for those answers.”

Zayn shifted uncomfortably. “But, one day…?” He cleared his throat, Liam raising an eyebrow. “Um, like, do you think you might want them one day?”

Ever so lightly, Liam drew Zayn into his arms, grip loose but Zayn folded in all the same. “I think so. Maybe sooner than you think but…not now. Just, not now.”

Zayn nodded against his chest, absently toying with the buttons on his shirt. “That…that means that in no way do I need to ask about Christmas, right? I already told Mum to not even think about asking if you were coming but…”

Liam had never gone from calm to furious before, but hey, first time for everything because the _nerve_ of him. He took Zayn’s chin in his hand, Zayn whining when he was ripped from his chest. “ _No_ , I was not going to go to your family’s Christmas. _Jesus_.”

“I didn’t think you were!” Zayn pointed out, looking honest-to-god _offended_. “Did you skip the part where I said I’d told Mum not to ask?”

Liam scowled at him. “But why would she even bother asking in the first place? What have you told her about us?”

“Nothing!” Zayn spat, scooting away and folding his arms. “I didn’t tell her a damn thing!”

“And yet she thinks I’m coming for Christmas? _Clearly_ you didn’t tell her _everything_. I can only imagine which parts you conveniently left out. Did you also leave out the part where you went to my house?” Zayn paled and Liam raised his eyebrows. “What? Didn’t think my parents would tell me about that? What was that all about?”

“I just…wanted to say sorry.”

Maybe he was being bitter, but Liam scoffed. “So you’ll say sorry to _them_ but not me?”

Zayn gaped. “I didn’t…I’m still working on how!”

“No, you’re hoping this will continue on so well that you’ll never _have_ to because you’re a _coward!_ ”

The words were out of Liam’s mouth before he even had time to think about them but when they caught up with him, Liam clapped a hand across his mouth. Zayn looked every bit as though he’d been slapped, eyes tearing up and bottom lip trembling. Liam swore and reached out but Zayn leapt off the couch, putting as much distance between them as possible. His hands were shaking as he reached for his phone, stomping his foot petulantly whenever Liam tried to speak.

“ _Zayn_ …” Liam pleaded.

“ _Don’t!_ ” Zayn cried, pressing the phone to his ear, looking so small and defeated that it broke Liam’s heart. “ _Mum_ ,” he croaked, Liam’s eyes widening exponentially. No, no, _no_ , what…? He _wasn’t_ … “Leave it, I’m fine, I just…You know how I said not to bother asking about Liam coming for Christmas? Do you wanna know why?”

“Zayn, _don’t_.”

But, as usual, Zayn ignored him, gaze locked on Liam’s as he continued. “It’s cause I fucked him…Mum, don’t care about my language!...No, I mean, I walked out on Liam, avoided him for six months, got sick of Louis pestering me about the whole thing so pretended I wanted to date Liam again…” He choked on a sob but kept going, Liam’s own eyes stinging. “…and then I used him. Mum, I tricked him into sleeping with me and then threw him out the door.” Trisha’s yelling could be heard even from where Liam was seated, Zayn crumpling to the floor as he sobbed.

“Zayn, _no_.” Liam was over there in a second, hands shaking because this _wasn’t_ what he had wanted. He hadn’t meant it like _that_.

Zayn smacked his hands away though, face tear-stained and so, so hurt as his mother continued to tear him apart but he sat there and took it, took it because Liam had asked him to.

“ _Zayn Javadd Malik, if you weren’t my son right now…the things I would do to you. Your father and I are going to talk._ Then _we’ll decide whether_ you’re _invited or not.”_ Liam had never heard Trisha sound so cold. “ _Do you understand?_ ”

Zayn gulped, nodding even though she couldn’t see. “I understand.” With that, the line went dead. Zayn buried his face in his hands, shoulders heaving and Liam ached to touch. Zayn must have sensed him coming though because he jerked away, stumbling to his feet and stomping down to his room. Liam had been tempted to follow but before he could Zayn was back. Limply held in his hands was a bag full of Christmas presents and Liam wished the ground would swallow him.

 _“_ Zayn _…”_

The bag was shoved into his hands, Zayn uselessly scrubbing at his face. “Merry Christmas Liam. Now, I’m sorry, but I’d like you to go.”

Liam nearly dropped the bag. “No, Zayn, _please no_. Don’t, don’t do this. I’m sorry, okay? I-”

“Liam, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for,” Zayn said firmly…or as firmly he could around hitching sobs. “You only said the truth but I…You still need to go. I’m sorry, but you do.” He picked his way to the door, holding it open. “Go, Liam. Go home to your family and forget all this shit. You deserve to.”

The earnestness in his eyes was what nearly sent Liam over the edge. With blurred eyes he stuffed his coat and shoes on, blinking when Zayn straightened his scarf and smoothed out the creases in his shirt for him. Everything he wanted to say only seemed pointless in that moment. In the end, Liam settled for pecking Zayn’s cheek, willing himself to ignore the broken sound Zayn made at the affectionate gesture. Really, there was only one thing he could say:

“Merry Christmas Zayn.”

“And a Happy New Year Liam.”

 

***

 

There came the sound of shoes crunching across the pavement towards the flat. They paused just in front of Liam before swivelling. A body was then sat next to his, Niall sighing heavily.

“Lou’ and Harry asleep?”

“’Course.”

“But you felt like talking?”

“Felt like crying.”

“…then cry.”

And so Liam did.

 

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the pieces are coming together slowly and surely. I feel like everything has to be broken down so that it can be rebuilt the right way. Does that make sense? XD .xx Dan
> 
> P.S. Can I also just say that I love Niall? Niall is so precious <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the response to this story has been amazing so far!!! Thank you so much to everyone who's reading this and enjoying it. Nothing makes me want to write more than the knowledge that I am able to make people happy. :)

 

Liam had been coming up with excuse after excuse as to why he couldn’t go home for Christmas early but now that he’d arrived at the reason _behind_ those excuses, Liam wished he could take them back. He wished he could be at his parents’ doorstep on Christmas Eve rather than the _Malik’s_ …but then _he’d_ chosen to drive here so he had no one to blame but himself. Realistically, he _could_ back out of the driveway now and no one would be any the wiser and yet, he couldn’t. Liam just couldn’t.

Pressing his head against the steering wheel and groaning loudly, Liam took a breath to compose himself before reaching over to the passenger seat and grabbing Zayn’s present. Slamming the door shut and jogging through the biting rain, the only thought that – bizarrely – was running through his head was, _well it worked for Harry_. Were surprise Christmas visits going to become a thing in their group? He hoped not.

Just as the door opened Liam suddenly panicked because _who_ exactly was going to open the door? Shit, he should have told Zayn he was coming, or Doniya, _someone!_

“Holy shit…Mum’s gonna flip.”

Liam felt relief sweep through him at Waliyha’s voice. “Hey,” he greeted softly as she pulled him first over the threshold and then into her arms.

“Hey? _Hey?_ ” she repeated incredulously. “Liam, if that’s your greeting you have no idea what you’re in for.”

He winced. “Is it bad then?” A thought struck him. “Wait, is Zayn even…?”

“He’s here,” Waliyha said with a roll of her eyes. “Mum couldn’t stay that mad at him. Although…” she grimaced. “They’re not exactly talking. I also kinda get why. Sorry Liam, but my brother was a right arse to you.”

Liam scratched at his neck. “Ah, so you…you all know, huh? About…”

“To be honest, we’d kind of already guessed.” Whirling around, Liam found Doniya there, her new baby boy in her arms, bouncing him gently. “I mean, Waliyha and Safaa and I. Something changed. We saw it.”

Waliyha nodded, counting off on her fingers. “Zayn fell off the grid, Louis shot us down whenever we tried to text him, you stopped wearing the engagement ring.”

Liam choked on his breath. “How did you…?”

Both girls – _women_ , they were women now – gave him unimpressed looks. “We both have you on Facebook Li’ and that Niall guy tags you in _everything_.”

“Oh god,” Liam moaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, cheeks heating up under their cackles because Niall really _did_ tag him in everything; especially if he was looking particularly stupid or unattractive. “That’s not fair.”

They laughed some more and Liam probably would have joined in had not two things happened at once:

1\. Zayn chose that moment to descend the stairs to find out what the source of the noise was  
and  
2\. Trisha chose to do much the same for equal reasons, only coming from the kitchen instead.

Liam didn’t know where to look. Zayn, for one, had made it halfway down the stairs before recognising him, eyes widening exponentially before he collapsed onto the stairs, burying his face in his knees. Trisha was staring at him in stunned disbelief, mouth opening and closing so much that in any other circumstance it would have been funny.

“L-Liam…” she managed to stammer out.

“Mum, let’s leave them. Ali needs his bottle, yeah?” Doniya said, feebly attempting to tug her back to the kitchen.

Whether it worked or not, Liam didn’t know because Waliyha was extracting the present from his grip and pushing him towards Zayn rather forcibly. After tripping over the first step, Liam basically tore to Zayn’s side, crouching down in front of him and gripping his calves gently.

“Hey Zayn,” he breathed, Zayn only shaking his head stubbornly. “Come on, talk to me?”

“Don’t…don’t know what to say,” Zayn whispered hoarsely, head lifting so their eyes could meet. “…you came. You _came_. Liam…I didn’t…”

“You didn’t force me,” Liam said softly, knowing what Zayn was thinking. “And I can only stay an hour or two but _someone_ didn’t give me a chance to pass on their present.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Zayn sniffed, messily wiping at his eyes. “You didn’t have to come all this way for that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Liam shifted so that he was sitting next to Zayn, close enough that they were touching but not so close that they were pressed together. “But I wanted to.”

Next thing he knew, Zayn had flung his arms around his neck, halfway into his lap. “ _I’m sorry!_ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t said it before and I know this in no way makes up for _anything_ but I’m sorry, okay?” Zayn’s arms tightened as he curled around Liam’s frame. “I’m so, so sorry Liam. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise. I’m going to fix this, fix us, but please, _please_ , just know and believe me when I say I’m _sorry_.”

“Zayn…” Liam breathed, drawing him closer.

“I wish I could say I never meant to hurt you,” Zayn continued, “But we both know that isn’t true. Liam, I _did_ hurt you and I did it on _purpose_ and you need to know that I know that. I know that what I did was _nowhere_ near okay. None of it was even _remotely_ okay. But I’m _sorry_. I _am_ sorry. I’m so, so-”

“Oh shut up.”

Zayn’s head snapped up but Liam merely bumped their noses together.

“Once was enough. That’s all I was waiting for. Just to hear you say it out loud. I didn’t come here to make you hyperventilate.”

Zayn snorted. “Lou’ been teaching you big words again?” He then shrieked as Liam licked – _fucking licked!_ – the side of his face. “Oh my god, you are disgusting! _Liam!_ ”

Liam laughed, gently taking a hold of Zayn’s wildly flapping hands. “It wasn’t even that bad.”

Zayn pushed his hair off his face flippantly. “Says you. Weren’t you that had to endure it.”

“Boys.”

The quiet voice had them flying apart, whirling around in sync to find Trisha watching them intently through the bannister. From the looks of it, she didn’t know what to think. Liam maybe thought she had a point. She then slipped a hand through the railings to grasp Liam’s hand lightly.

“Tea?”

Liam glanced at Zayn, who merely stared at him impassively. Liam huffed before turning back to Trisha. “Tea’d be great. But only quick, okay? I’ve got to get home.”

Trisha nodded, sweeping from the entryway. Zayn and Liam disentangled themselves from each other fully and slowly plodded down the stairs. Waliyha had left Zayn’s present at the bottom and Zayn raised an eyebrow at the sight of the box.

“’S for you,” Liam supplied rather uselessly, bending down to collect it and holding it out.

“You didn’t have to,” Zayn whispered even as he was picking at the tape.

Liam shrugged. “Didn’t mean I couldn’t. Also didn’t mean I didn’t have to traipse around London for hours trying to find something you might actually like.”

“Oi, I’m not so bad,” Zayn protested, tossing the paper carelessly onto the floor.

Liam tutted at him and picked it up, unable to suppress a grin when Zayn gasped loudly. His eyes flew back and forth between Liam and the Green Lantern Nike Dunks situated in the box. He may or may not have also done a few tiny, excited hops on the spot. God, he was adorable. Liam then blinked. Wait, _what?_ He didn’t get time to process that because Zayn was back in his arms.

“Thank you Li’, so much, yeah?”

Liam smiled into his neck. “You’re welcome. And hey, I, um, I have something else to give you?”

Zayn pulled away with a frown. “But you…”

“I…it’s not something I can actually _give_ to you.” Zayn’s frown only deepened. “But…I’ve done a lot of thinking and I…Don’t ask me now, _please_ don’t ask me now…but if you ever want this to go further…” Zayn froze, going bow-string tight. “…I think I’d be okay with that.”

“Not now?” Zayn confirmed, to which Liam nodded. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay then. I…I’ll ask.”

Liam smiled softly. “I’m holding you to that Malik.”

Zayn gripped his hand tightly, eyes so serious that Liam nearly recoiled. “And I won’t let you down.”

For the first time in a long time, Liam believed him.

“Now, come on. Mum’s got that cuppa brewing.”

 

***

 

Liam paused in his scrounging through the refrigerator as his phone chimed. Letting the door _thunk_ shut, Liam pulled the device out, grinning at the screen, completely tuning out Louis, Harry, and Niall who were crowded in the living room of Louis’ flat.

_Just got back to London :) how about you?_

Liam quickly typed back a reply:

_Two days now. Catching up with the lads._  
_You?_

_School goes back on Monday so got a shit load of prep to do._  
_Free Saturday night though…_  
_Would you like to go on a date with me? Saturday night?_

Liam felt his heart leap into his throat, face heating up in delight. Zayn had just asked him on a date. On a _date_. Their first official date! Well, he mused as his nose scrunched up, first date _this_ time around. He was all set to reply when-

“Oi Payno, who’s the new man in your life?”

The voice was Louis’. _Shit_.

 

***

 

From his spot in Harry’s lap, Louis squinted over at Liam. He’d excused himself to go to the bathroom and had been ordered to return with snacks. Louis had patiently waited as long as he could but there was only so much Downton Abbey – hang on, why were Harry and Niall even watching that to start with?! – he could endure before becoming incredibly bored. Which was why he started looking for Liam…who was currently staring down at his phone with an expression Louis could only describe as _besotted_. Liam _never_ got like this, unless it was with a crush. Okay, so Louis had only ever seen him with _one_ crush but still… He grinned like a lunatic. Well, well, well.

“Oi Payno, who’s the new man in your life?”

Liam jumped at his voice, whipping around with wide eyes. Louis frowned. No, scratch that, he looked borderline petrified. And did…did he just look at _Niall?_ Seeing that no answer was immediately forthcoming, Louis, in an amazing show of agility and motivation, bounded out of Harry’s lap and across the room before Liam could even blink. Leaning across the island, Louis deftly plucked the phone out of his hands before sprinting back to the safety of Harry’s arms.

 _“Louis!”_ Liam yelled. “Louis, don’t! Give it back!”

“Nah uh,” Louis said in a sing-song voice, looking at the screen closely. “Ooh, they want you to go on a date?”

“That’s wonderful!” Harry piped up and Louis would have agreed…if Liam still didn’t look like he was about to shit himself.

“Let’s see who it’s from then,” Louis tutted, even as Niall was calling out a warning “ _Louis_ ”. He found the sender’s ID written at the top and… “ _Zayn?!_ ” He was off the couch in a nanosecond. “Liam Payne, you fucking _what?!_ Zayn. Zayn as in _Zayn Malik_ is asking you on a date? And you…are you bloody considering this?”

“Louis, it’s not…”

“ _Christ_ ,” Louis swore, scrolling through the messages, not reading them but god, there were so _many_. “This isn’t new.” It was a statement, albeit a cold one. “You’ve been doing this for awhile. You’ve been talking to him?”

“Jesus fuck Louis,” Niall snapped, causing him to whirl around. “Are you telling me you haven’t noticed? They’ve been at it for months.”

Louis’ mind went blank, sinking back onto the sofa when Harry tugged him down. “What?” He sought out Liam’s gaze. “You…have you really?”

Liam nodded silently.

“Since Louis’ accident?” Harry guessed, frowning a little. “I thought you said he’d gone away?”

“Yeah, he went to Bradford,” Louis recalled, Liam’s head snapping towards Harry.

“You told him?!”

Harry flushed, toying with his hair. “Well, yeah. It…Georgia was involved, right? So Lou’ had a right to know.”

Liam seemed to agree, but he didn’t look happy about it. Louis re-read Liam’s last few messages, lips pursed. “It says here he just got back. He’s moved to London now?”

Liam studied the hands in his lap. “He came back right at the start of October.”

“October?” Louis repeated dumbly. “And you…What, you’ve been talking since then?”

“Yeah, we have. Meeting up too.”

“You’ve-…Georgia knows.” Of _course_ she did. It all made sense now. Why she’d wanted Zayn at her birthday, why she’d been asking if he could come back. Because she _knew_.

“Yes, she knows,” Liam admitted, shoulders curling in a little. “But Lou’, she wasn’t _meant_ to find out. Just…she had my phone one day and was playing on it when Zayn sent through a picture.”

“Liam Payne if my daughter has been subjected to _dick pics…_ ”

“ _Louis!_ ” “Boo…”

Liam went beet-red, Harry turned chastising, and Niall howled with laughter, slapping his thighs as he threw his head back. Louis fought back a smile while also trying to level Liam with a serious look.

“God Louis, _no_. We…we don’t do… _that_ , God. Christ Lou’.” Liam shuddered. “No, we send each other little funny pictures sometimes; stupid faces and stuff like that. It was just a selfie. But it was enough for her to figure out what was going on.” He then rolled his eyes. “Oh, and demand what she wanted from Zayn for her birthday.”

Louis’ mouth dropped open. “She…she demanded those ridiculous boots?!”

Liam held up a finger over the top of Harry’s objection. “She _asked_ for the Harry Potter colouring book. The boots were in exchange for her silence.”

Louis seemed incapable to forming words. He blinked several times before screeching, “She fucking _blackmailed_ you?! My eight-year-old blackmailed you?” He then turned to Harry. “Harry, we’ve made a terrible mistake. Where did we go wrong? What is happening to our child?”

“Our child?” Harry breathed, Louis’ expression softening before capturing his lips.

“Yes love, she’s ours. We’ve talked about this.”

“Doesn’t mean you’ve ever said it.”

“I’ve said it plenty,” Louis murmured, nuzzling into Harry’s cheek. “Just maybe not in so few words.” He then turned back to Liam, remembering why this discussion had even started in the first place. “So you and Zayn…is this…are you two serious?”

“Zayn sounded serious when I spoke to him,” Niall offered.

All three of them blinked at him. “When have _you_ spoken to Zayn?” Harry asked in confusion.

Niall crossed his ankles leisurely. “Well it _definitely_ wouldn’t have been at one of Liam’s football matches. You know, because Zayn goes to _every single one_.”

Louis whirled around to Liam but, to his surprise, Liam looked just as shocked. Niall looked between them all incredulously.

“Fucking hell, _really_ guys? I mean, I know Zayn said you hadn’t noticed but I thought he only meant Louis.” He glanced at Liam. “Really, you haven’t seen him?”

“Every one?” Liam croaked, throat very dry.

Niall smiled gently. “Every one. He doesn’t miss a match, said so himself.”

“He never said…”

“Would he though?” Louis mused, shuffling closer to Harry and sinking into the arm that wrapped around his stomach. “You know what he’s like Li’. He’s private when he wants to be, doesn’t tell you things until he’s ready.” He eyed Liam up with a frown. “I don’t like it.” His voice was firm. “But I think you already know that. But I also can’t stop you Liam. And, really, it was _you_ Zayn hurt last time so if you want to risk that…then I can only say it’s up to you.”

“Make sure he treats you right, yeah?” Harry tacked on.

It was amazing just how much tension seemed to seep away from Liam’s body from those few simple sentences. Louis squirmed guiltily. Shit, if Liam felt _this_ relieved at having them not yell at him, it was no wonder he’d been hiding it. Louis was a shit friend.

“Hey Li?” The question was soft, making Liam scurry over in concern. “Stop it,” Louis giggled, kicking out at him gently. “Just…sorry for being a tit about this, for making you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. You’re my best mate Li’. You should’ve been able to come to me first. Sorry.”

Liam’s face split into that ray of sunshine it usually was, tilting forward and kissing his cheek. “Thanks Lou’.”

“This mean no more crying on the step?” Niall asked absently as he chomped on a liquorice stick, eyes locked on the telly. “Cause, no offence, but that was a bit not good.”

“ _Niall!_ ” Liam hissed but Niall didn’t so much as turn around.

“You were crying on the step?” Louis demanded, mentally berating himself. “When? _Why?_ What had happened?”

“Liam, we’re sorry,” Harry’s voice joined in. “You should have been able to talk to us.”

“Guys, stop,” Liam laughed, fighting them off easily. “Look, it was before Christmas and I wasn’t crying because I was upset. Zayn didn’t hurt me or anything. More like…” he picked at the edge of the sofa. “I hurt _him_ …”

“…And then you felt shit about it,” Louis finished, shaking his head at him. “You’re too good Payno, you know that right?”

Liam sent him a cheeky grin. “Think I’m alright.”

Louis made a scandalised noise but before he could reply, Liam’s phone suddenly lit up, going berserk on his knee.

_Li’?_  
_Shit, was that…did you not want that?_  
_Liam, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. You can say no, I won’t mind._  
_Fuck!_  
_Forget I asked, okay?_

Louis’ eyebrows hit his hairline because wow, Zayn sounded borderline _desperate_. Liam paled though, snatching the phone off Louis’ lap and pressing dial faster than Louis had ever seen.

“Zayn?...Hey, hey, Zayn, calm down…No, it’s _fine_. Of course I want to!...I’m sorry, Louis took my phone…Yeah he, he knows…It’s okay, he’s okay with it…Stop it… _Oi!_ I am not. You’re a menace Malik…But no, Zayn, I’d love to. Really… _Really_ …Okay, text me a time and place, alright?...Yeah, bye to you too. Stay safe Zayn.”

When Liam hung up, it was to Louis smiling at him with that ridiculously happy expression he had, the one where his mouth seemed to take up his entire face and his eyes were crinkled shut. “Liam,” he said, waving him closer and curling into his side when he was close enough. “Li’…you sound just like you used to. I think…Zayn…I feel like he’s not gonna let you go this time.”

Liam thumbed at his phone, a picture of Zayn already his lock screen once more. “Yeah, I don’t think he will either.”

 

***

 

Truth be told, Zayn was ecstatic with how his second first-date with Liam had gone. He’d made reservations at a small, in-the-wall pizzeria and they’d spent the night tucked up in a booth near the back. They’d talked about Christmas and New Years, about how much they were dreading going back to work, about how much their sisters teased them. They’d swapped bites and split dessert, doing those typical, sickening couple things. Zayn’s feet had hooked around Liam’s ankles and Liam had traced over his tattoos with a lingering finger more times than Zayn could count. Eventually though their meals were done, Zayn had paid the bill, and then they were strolling towards the tube station. Arriving at the platform, Zayn frowned at finding the carriage already sitting there, doors open but clearly having no intention of shutting any time soon.

“Problem?” Liam asked, watching Zayn’s expression distort.

A voice then came over the P.A. “ _There is currently a delay on the Central Line due to signal failure. Please use alternate means of transportation, including the Piccadilly line or Bus N24 and N129_.”

Zayn groaned, jogging over to the carriage and poking his head in. He tapped the woman closest. “Sorry, but how long have you been here?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Ten minutes at this station and it was a twenty minute wait at the one before. Blasted tubes.”

Zayn swore but Liam nudged him shoulder reproachfully. “It’s not her fault.” He gave the woman a smile. “Thank you. Think we’ll find another way home.”

“Give it a few and I might join you.”

Stepping further back from the edge of the platform, Zayn rocked back and forwards on his heels. He glanced at the time and then shyly up at Liam. “Um…your place is close, right?”

Liam nodded. “It is.” Realisation then slammed into him. _Oh_. Zayn was finding the floor _very_ interesting, which was quite endearing. Rolling his eyes, Liam slipped his hand into Zayn’s, giving a little tug. “Come on then. Back to mine?”

Zayn grinned, tucking into his side, hesitating for only a second before changing his grip so that their fingers were actually interlaced. Liam gave an encouraging squeeze, leading Zayn through the streets, groaning when Zayn pulled them up in front of a waffle stand because he was _so full_ but they looked _so good_. They ended up getting a Cream and Cookies one, although they admitted defeat before they finished it. Liam jumped when Zayn rubbed a smudge of cream off his face, looking mighty tempted to lick his finger but then realising that was probably inappropriate given the circumstances.

As Liam unlocked the door to his flat, Zayn hovered uncertainly, not knowing where this was going. From the look on Liam’s face, he didn’t know either. He looked between Zayn and the rest of his flat awkwardly and it was up to Zayn to paint a smile on his face, faking a yawn.

“Well, think I’ve got an early start with that prep work tomorrow so maybe we should just crash? Like, we can put a movie on if you want but I’ll probably fall asleep halfway through anyway.” He was already making his way to Liam’s drawers. “Can I borrow a shirt?”

“Course!” Liam blurted out, hastily opening the drawer, making Zayn laugh.

“I can open a drawer Li’. And besides, it’s not like you have anything to hide…unless, since I’ve been gone…?” Liam flicked his ear. “ _Ow!_ Just for that, I’m nicking your favourite shirt!”

Zayn proceeded to do just that, yanking the shirt out and bolting for the bed, screaming when Liam tackled him from behind, sending them both tumbling down. Zayn laughed loudly, shrieking when Liam tried to tickle his sides. Eventually Liam let him up and Zayn scurried away, pouting at Liam before starting to undress. His shoes got tipped over the side of the bed, followed by his jeans, then his jumper and shirt. He slipped Liam’s tee over his head, blinking when he found Liam watching him intently.

“Don’t think I’ve changed that much,” he remarked teasingly.

Liam flushed. “Yeah, no, haven’t changed at all. You’re still…” Liam snapped his mouth shut, clearly flustered as he went in search of his own sleep clothes.

Zayn watched him curiously until understanding sunk in. He kept the thought to himself, at least until Liam had flicked off the light and crawled in beside him. They weren’t touching but there had to be only millimetres between him. Shifting even closer, Zayn heard Liam suck in a breath as their skin made contact.

“Hey Li’?” Zayn murmured, finishing the sentence Liam hadn’t. “You’re still beautiful, you know that, right? I never stopped thinking that. Cause, like, it could never stop being true. You’re amazing Li’.”

A hand ran through his hair, Zayn leaning into the touch ever so slightly. “You too Zayn. Now, early start, wasn’t it?”

“Early start,” Zayn grumbled in agreement, tugging the blankets up. “And don’t think I’m not gonna hate you and my alarm for it in the morning.”

Liam snorted. “Please. If you did anything else, I’d call the emergency services.”

Just for that, Zayn kicked him as best he could; which wasn’t very good. Liam then shoved him into the wall with a light-hearted ‘ _piss off’_. Deciding he did _actually_ need to sleep, Zayn shuffled back to Liam’s side before letting his eyes slide closed. And with Liam’s weight beside him, he’d slept better than he had in a long time. A _long_ time.

 

***

 

“Thanks Archie,” Zayn said, smiling at the little boy as he finished his story. He then turned to the girl almost hidden in his side. “What about you Willow? Can you tell us what you did on the weekend?” She shook her head. “Not even a little try?” Zayn prompted, giving the rest of a class a stern look. “I promise your friends won’t laugh.”

Willow cautiously nodded. “I…I went to the country with Mummy and Daddy and Henry.”

“All the way to the country?” Zayn asked, voice overflowing with faked awe.

The children lapped it up though, Willow giggly shyly into her hand. “Yeah. We went to Aunty Megan’s wedding.” Big, grey eyes turned to Zayn. “Mr Malik, did you ever have a wedding?”

It was as though Zayn’s world collapsed. It was such a simple question, so sweet and innocent, but _oh god_ , his heart was pounding and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he _couldn’t_ … _Fuck!_

“Mr Malik?” One of his pupils shook his shoulder. “Sir, are you alright?”

He shook his head. “I…”

“Do you need me to call the nurse?” Conor, it was Conor. “I breathe like you when I have asthma attacks. Are you having an asthma attack Mr Malik?”

“No,” he managed, vainly trying to pull himself together. “But, if you can reach the phone, press the button that says _1_. Can you do that?”

“I can do it!” Tahlia announced, collecting a chair and pushing it over to the phone. “Conor can sit with you because his mummy’s a doctor.” She reached for the button. “What do I say?”

Zayn squeezed his eyes shut. _Shit_. He was gonna get _so_ fired for this; who broke down in a room of six-year-olds? “Um…can you say Mr Malik is having a panic attack?”

Tahlia frowned, hands on her hips. “A picnic attack?”

The rest of the class laughed and Zayn thanked God for small mercies. “No, _panic_.” He made sure to annunciate the word. “A _panic attack_. Say that and I promise we can have a picnic next week, yeah?”

“Okay!” she chirped, picking up the phone. “Hello? It’s Tahlia from Cherry Class. Mr Malik says he’s having a panic attack. Conor said we should call the nurse. Are you a…Mr Malik, she put the phone down.”

“It’s alright,” Zayn assured, waving the girl back and giving her the best smile he could. “Thank you.” He turned to the class. “You’re all being very brave.”

There came the sound of heels clacking outside the classroom and then the Head of Staff appeared. It took her less than a second to survey the situation. “Children, return to your desks. Mr Malik, are you able to make it to the bathrooms?” He nodded. “Good. Do that and I’ll have someone else come along as soon as possible.”

Zayn didn’t bother with a thanks, making it to the door before tearing down the hallway. He locked the door of the staff toilet before slumping down onto the floor, halfway between panting and sobbing. His phone was in his hand, fumbling for a contact he hadn’t called in so long because they’d understand; they’d _always_ understood.

_“…hello Zayn. To what do I-”_

_“Louis!”_

Louis stopped mid-sentence. _“Zayn?”_ his voice was infinitely softer now. _“Zayn, what’s going on? Are you okay?”_

“I’m not,” he gasped, shaking his head furiously.

 _“Fuck, are you having a panic attack? Don’t answer that,”_ he snapped almost straight after. _“You are, fucking hell, you_ are _. Where are you?”_

“I’m at work.”

_“Work? Shit, your kids!”_

“Got someone in with them,” Zayn managed, whining as his chest constricted.

Louis could be heard swearing profusely on the other end of the line. “ _Zayn,_ Zee _, I_ can’t _get to you right now. I can’t get across London in five minutes but you need to calm down in five minutes or you’re going to pass out. You’ve done this before Zayn, you know what to do.”_

“Remind me?” Zayn pleaded.

 _“Okay, shut everything down,”_ Louis instructed calmly. “ _Close your eyes, stop touching things, stop smelling, just listen to me. One sense only Zayn. Start with one…”_

It took nearly fifteen minutes but Louis was finally able to get Zayn back to a normal breathing rhythm, his head no longer swimming, his heart no longer erratic in his chest. Zayn felt _exhausted_ , like the life had been drained out of him.

_“Still with me?”_

Zayn let out a rather unconvincing groan. “I’m here Lou’.”

 _“Don’t ever do that again!”_ Louis admonished, voice laced with hysteria. _“You nearly gave me a heart attack Malik! Christ, what even…what the_ hell _set that off?”_

“I…” Zayn sniffed and Louis swore once more.

 _“Zayn,_ no _. If you’re going to flip again because of whatever set that off, don’t tell me. Not right now. Not until I’m next to you.”_

“I wanna marry Liam.”

_“…well, fuck.”_

Because that was what it came down to, really. He hadn’t known it – not _consciously_ at least but perhaps it had always been lingering – but once Willow had mentioned it, thrown it out there oh so casually…It was like getting dunked in acid. _Had he ever had a wedding?_ No, because he’d thrown that away but he wanted one. He _wanted_ one. But not just _any_ wedding. No, he wanted one where he and _Liam Payne_ stood there together and they agreed to spend every second of their life together. He wanted what Liam had already tried to give him because…because…

“Louis…I love him.”

Louis sighed heavily. _“I know Zee. I always said that you did. Took_ _you long enough.”_

Zayn managed a stifled laugh. He stared up at the ceiling. “Louis, I _love_ Liam. I really, really do.”

 _“You’ve never been able to convince me otherwise.”_ Louis sounded a little too proud for Zayn’s liking, nose twitching. _“You gave it your best shot though.”_

Zayn hummed. “So…what do I do now?”

 _“In regards to Liam? I don’t know,”_ Louis answered that quickly enough. _“You have to sort that out yourself Zayn. Liam won’t accept it any other way nor would he_ want _it any other way. But in regards to right now…Well, I figure you’ll be sent home.”_

“If not fired,” Zayn bemoaned.

 _“No one can fire you for having a mental illness,”_ Louis said sharply. _“People get sick, it happens. Now, once you get sent home, I think you should swing by wherever it is you’re living, grab your skateboard, and meet me at Georgia’s school. I think it’s time for us to talk.”_

It was an olive branch. And Zayn lunged for it. “I’ll be there!”

 

***

 

Georgia honest-to-God _squealed_ upon seeing Zayn standing at Louis’ side when they came to pick her up. She scaled Zayn, wrapping her arms around his neck before reaching over to drag Louis in too. As she dropped to the ground, she took Zayn’s hand in her left, Louis’ in her right.

“Daddy, Zaynie, are we going skating? Because we _never_ go skating anymore. It’s because Harry’s mean Zaynie,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper.

Passing by reception, Frances raised her eyebrows upon spotting Zayn but, at Louis’ smile, she gave a relieved nod. As Georgia said, not one hour later, they really were a family again…only they were bigger now. They were six instead of four. Neither Zayn nor Louis were complaining; not in the slightest.

 

***

 

Now that he was looking, it took Liam all of about two minutes to spot Zayn in the stands. It had clearly taken Louis less because he nudged Liam with a sharp, ‘ _stop staring or he’ll bugger off_ ’. Why Zayn and Louis were suddenly talking again was something Liam didn’t quite understand but from what they’d both told him they’d simply agreed to meet up one day and it had all gone from there. It sounded like absolute hogwash if he was honest but he couldn’t be bothered prying.

Aware of Zayn’s eyes, Liam put a little more effort in. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ play well normally but he’d always tried that _little_ bit harder when he’d known Zayn was there. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to impress Zayn or whether he wanted Zayn to be proud of him or whether he legitimately just wanted to show off but it was hard to keep his face clear of a smile when every so often he would sneak a peek across the field and spot Zayn’s shock of blond hair. Even so, a part of him realised that Zayn must have arrived late because Liam hadn’t seen him before the match and with the fact that they never saw him afterwards, it was pretty safe to bet that he was ducking out early too. Liam was trying to figure out a strategy to counter that three minutes out from the end when suddenly the ball was in front of him.

 _“Go Payno!”_ Louis screamed and he was off.

Liam flew down the field, kicking the ball between the legs of one of the opposition before blocking another and managing to skirt around him. Then it was just him and the goal. Well, and a goalkeeper but Howell wasn’t particularly known for his diving ability. Grinning maniacally, Liam spiked the ball straight into the bottom corner, screams bombarding him from all sides as it went in…right as the siren sounded.

Louis’ voice could be heard echoing across the field, shouting for him, but Liam barely even heard him. No, he was already sprinting across the field, sprinting towards the figure that had been teetering at the edge of the stand until Liam had scored. Zayn had only managed to take a step or two before Liam’s arms were around his waist, spinning him around.

 _“Oi!”_ Zayn twisted in his arms, eyes softening somewhat once he at least _recognised_ who had a hold of him. “Dammit Liam, you scared me half to death mate!”

“You’re here.” Liam didn’t even bother listening to Zayn, only drawing him closer. “You’re here, you’re really here.”

Zayn clucked his tongue. “I’m here babe.”

He yelped as Liam’s hands slipped under his thighs, pulling him up. With something between a laugh and a shout, Zayn wrapped his legs around Liam’s waist, knowing that Liam could take his weight with ease. He burrowed into Liam’s neck, breath ghosting over the tiny hairs there, making Liam shiver.

“You were amazing Li’. The best, as always. Tommo’s got nothing on you.”

“It’s only because I have this pretty fit boy that comes and watches me.” Liam chuckled as Zayn pulled back, offended.

 _“Boy?”_ he repeated snidely, one eyebrow perfectly arched.

“I _did_ say you were fit,” Liam pointed out, pressing a kiss to the exposed part of Zayn’s collarbone without thought. Zayn’s breath hitched and the air between them suddenly seemed to change, a crackling edge to it, a sizzle, electric. Liam’s gaze dropped to Zayn’s mouth. “Can...” He licked his lips. “Can I…?”

“Fuck yes.”

Liam slammed their lips together, eyes sinking shut as Zayn came to grip his face. He stumbled slightly as Zayn’s change in angle shifted their weight but he soon had his feet firmly planted, able to focus entirely on the way Zayn was pushing closer, licking at the seam of his mouth. Liam let him in without a fight, moaning when Zayn’s tongue came to brush against his own.

“Oi, oi, oi! As happy as we lads are that you got your man back Payno, we don’t need to see tongue! I am definitely seeing tongue right now!”

Liam groaned at Louis’ voice, reluctantly pulling away. Zayn made a pitiful whimper and although Liam shushed him with a quick peck to the lips, it really was a poor substitute. But it was also probably a good thing given how his entire team had since surrounded him, catcalling and whistling loudly. He let Zayn slide back to the ground, the team giving Zayn over-the-top winks because it wasn’t as though they didn’t recognise him. Hell, at least _three_ of them had wanked off thinking about him; and _yes_ , Liam had heard that from their mouths directly…which left him to worry about how many had done it and _hadn’t_ told him. He pulled Zayn to his side, kissing his temple.

“Alright team, let’s welcome Zayn’s stupidly attractive face back,” Louis instructed. “And then douse Liam in Gatorade because did you see that _fucking goal?!”_

Zayn dove out of the way as Louis proceeded to do exactly that, Liam shouting in outrage as orange sports drink got dumped over his head. Louis cackled loudly and took off, Liam on his heels. When he came out of the showers ten minutes later – though still smelling like sickeningly sweet orange – Liam beamed at finding Zayn sitting on the railing outside the showers, feet swinging back and forth, cigarette between his lips.

Liam held out a hand, wriggling his fingers invitingly. “Home?”

Zayn jumped down, linking their hands together. “Home.”

 

***

 

“Harry?”

Harry mumbled out something that could pass as a _‘yeah?’_ around the toothpaste foam in his mouth as he padded back into the bedroom. Louis was sitting cross-legged on their bed, flipping through the folder of wedding ideas they’d starting compiling.

“You know how we still haven’t decided between May or September?”

Harry grunted out the best affirmative he could, given his circumstances.

“Can we do September?”

Harry’s brow pinched together. He then held up a finger, ducking back into the ensuite to spit and rinse before joining Louis on the bed. “Can I ask why?”

Louis shrugged. “Don’t know just…I’m feeling September.”

Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow. But seeing that Louis wasn’t intending to elaborate further any time soon, Harry merely reached for the folder, flipping through it. “Well, the sunflowers will still be in season but we’ll get daffodils and magnolias too. I love magnolias,” he said whimsically.

Louis beamed at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s do September. Besides, it gives us a little more time to plan.”

Louis nodded, taking the book out of Harry’s hands despite his _‘hey!’_ and tossing it to the floor. “Don’t make that face,” Louis huffed, poking at his pout. “I mean, I’m not one for assuming but I figured that when it were a choice between looking at wedding bouquets or me riding you…”

Harry’s hasty fumbling for the lube was the only answer Louis needed.

 

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all the pieces are coming together now! Niall's keeping things cool, Louis and Zayn are slowly working things out, and Ziam are back on in a big way!!! Colour me happy :D .xx Dan


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final chapter! Hope everyone's ready :D

 

Toeing off his combat boots, Zayn trudged down the hall of his shared flat, dumping his bag on the edge of the breakfast bar as he settled onto a stool. Absently stirring his mac and cheese across from him, Luke raised an imperious eyebrow. Zayn frowned under the look, nose scrunching up a little.

“What?”

Luke merely shrugged. “Nothing.”

Glancing down and inspecting his appearance, Zayn couldn’t find anything wrong with it. No children had plastered him with hand prints, no one had spilt their milk on his trousers, his shirt wasn’t inside out. He probably looked the most collected he had in awhile to be honest, his kids too mopey after returning from Easter holidays to be into _anything_. Brushing his flat mate’s bizarre attitude off, Zayn rummaged through his bag until he found his wallet, thumbing out a couple of notes.

“Here,” he said, sliding the money to Luke. “That’s my share of the rent.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Zayn jerked back, lips pursing at Luke’s disbelief. He quickly recounted the money. “It’s all there,” he all but growled.

Luke rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I believe you, trust me mate, I do, s’just…” He placed his spoon down, hands coming to clasp in front of the bowl. Zayn would be lying if he said he didn’t find Luke’s stare slightly unnerving. “Zayn, when was the last time you were here?”

Zayn stared back, uncomprehending. “Sorry?”

Luke groaned, head flopping down. “Dude, you don’t live here. Sorry, but you don’t. Sure, you have a room with some shit in it but no one can remember the last time you actually _stayed_ in it.”

Something was being implied. Zayn was electing to ignore it. “No, I stayed here over the weekend.” Each word was said slowly and carefully, with emphasis.

“You got home at midnight on Friday and disappeared the second you woke up Saturday,” Luke deadpanned. “And I know you went home for Easter, but come _on_. Before that? _Really? Have_ you been here?”

The more Zayn thought about it, the more he realised how he really hadn’t been. How often he hadn’t been here. How often he’d been sleeping at…well, Liam’s. Shit.

“Sorry,” he muttered into his hand.

“What?” Luke laughed. “We don’t _mind_. We just…” He poked at the money. “I think you should probably give this to whoever you’ve been staying with.” He raised a finger when Zayn’s mouth opened. “And yes, I _know_ it’s only been one person. Don’t lie to me. You’re gone on this ‘Liam’ guy. Look, you may as well make it official because no point giving us money to pay for the shit _we_ use. Give it to Liam. Fair is fair.”

The lump in Zayn’s throat was suddenly almost all encompassing. “We haven’t…Liam and I…”

“You haven’t discussed it.” Luke said it as fact. “And yeah, I figured that. Well, Ashton put it to me but yeah, makes sense.” He nodded towards Zayn’s cupboard of a room. “You know, whatever’s left in there would probably fit in your rucksack…Wanna take a chance and see?”

Zayn’s eyes narrowed. “Are you kicking me out?”

Luke chuckled, rounding the bench and pulling him tight against his side. “No. I would never do that. Hate to break it to you, but we love you, despite your moody shit. But I also think you need a push because, _Jesus_ , you didn’t even _realise_ you’d moved out. Bet my arse your boyfriend hasn’t either.”

“We’re…we’re not…” Zayn managed to choke out, Luke’s eyes widening. They then steeled over.

“Zayn fucking Malik, that man is your fucking boyfriend and don’t bother lying to me. Maybe you haven’t made it official, like with words or whatever, but that’s sure as hell what it is. _No one_ spends six nights a week at their not-boyfriend’s-flat, trust me.”

Zayn very slowly turned to look at his room. “If I…If I took my stuff, could I come back if…you know…?”

A hand clapped his shoulder. “It won’t. But yes, of course.”

To Zayn’s embarrassment and Luke’s amusement, it took him approximately ten minutes to empty his drawers and collect a few random assortments from around the flat. Giving Luke a hug and promising to be back, even if only to catch up, Zayn backed out of the flat, jogging down to street level. Catching the Tube across London, Zayn popped up close to Liam’s, thankful for the lifts Liam’s complex came with. Reaching the door, Zayn realised he probably should have clocked on to how serious they were the second Liam had offhandedly passed him the spare key one day and then never asked for it back.

“…you’re back.”

Zayn could already hear the frown in Liam’s voice but all he could focus on was the ‘ _you’re back_ ’ rather than ‘ _oh, you’re here_ ’ or even a ‘ _why are you at my flat?_ ’.

It was a shoe in the door, a way to start everything and the explanation was on the tip of his tongue when Zayn happened to glance up and catch how tired Liam looked, already in his pyjamas and looking very much like he’d been about to fall into bed.

“Thought you weren’t coming round tonight?” Liam continued, padding over and looping his arms around Zayn.

“Changed my mind,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to Liam’s pecs. “You okay? You look wiped.”

“Eh.” Liam waved him off. “Long gym session, long afternoon being dragged around London by Louis and Georgia.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow as he dropped his bag surreptitiously at the foot of the bed, not that Liam was watching at all, already doing his last little before-bed routines; plugging his phone in, shutting the blinds, kicking off his socks.

“Georgia’s flower girl at the wedding,” Liam explained, to which Zayn tacked on an, “ _obviously_ ”. “So, she needs a dress and they wanted me to help and God knows why because we _all_ know Harry and Lottie are going to pick it anyway.” Liam huffed, dropping down onto his bed and rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Think it’s just been a long week, to be honest.”

He looked as though he was trying his best to even stay awake so really, there was no way Zayn could drop such a large bombshell on him. Worrying his bottom lip, Zayn swore to do it first thing tomorrow before divesting himself of his clothes, grabbing a set of sweats and a shirt from his – fucking hell, _his_ – side of the drawer. He then climbed over Liam, settling down on his usual side, tucked up against the wall. As Liam flicked the light switch, Zayn inched closer, breath ghosting over the edge of Liam’s sharp jaw. Through the dark he could almost make out the curve of a smile.

“Something you were after?” Liam asked playfully.

“A warm bed,” Zayn quipped, grunting when the comment earnt him a poke to the ribs. He then tipped closer, lips brushing against Liam’s as he said, “Just wanted this.” With that, he brought Liam into a kiss, Liam sighing happily into his mouth. It wasn’t fiery or passionate, no clacking of teeth or sharp nips; no, just simple, honest lip-to-lip contact, soft and warm, all tender and affection.

It was all that Zayn wanted.

He was grinning when he pulled away, could tell Liam was as well. “Night Li’.”

Liam grasped his hand momentarily, kissing the back reverently. “Sleep well Zee.”

 

***

 

Slowly coming to, Liam fumbled for his phone, squinting at the _8:57A.M._ that stared back at him. Soft breaths came from his left and Liam dropped his phone in favour of curling closer to Zayn’s back. The tip of his Fantail bird tattoo was just visible over the edge of his shirt, Liam tracing it gently. Zayn gave an irritated little snuffle, stirring.

“Sorry, sorry,” Liam placated, running the palm of his hand down Zayn’s back in just the right way to coax Zayn back into sleep’s hold.

A metallic glint as Zayn relaxed fully into the mattress once more had Liam frowning slightly. Of course he’d seen necklace Zayn had acquired sometime in the past year but he’d never discovered the significance of it. Occasionally he’d caught Zayn toying with whatever pendant hung on the end but when he’d asked, he’d merely been brushed off with a “ _it’s a part of someone special to me_ ”. Eventually Liam had come to the conclusion that it was probably a keepsake or talisman from Zayn’s late grandfather, brought over when his family had last visited. He hadn’t pushed and, if anything, Zayn had looked relieved.

When it came down to it though, Liam wasn’t bothered. It wasn’t like this was new. Zayn had _always_ been a private person, divulging information in tiny pieces at a time, or leaving little comments with different people to the point that, more than once, Liam and Louis had held meetings where they’d swap information and try to piece together the mystery that was Zayn. But he was _his_ mystery, Liam thought with a smile, placing a kiss to the back of Zayn’s neck simply because he could. They’d restarted their journey in the highs of the New Year and…Liam suddenly frowned, re-consulting his phone. April. It was now _April_. He had spent _three months_ with this beautiful man and not even _noticed_.

Perhaps because it had felt so much like it had used to; that everything between their break-up and their reconciliation had been a weird limbo state, never truly real.

Perhaps because this was natural. _This_ felt like home.

“Li’?” Zayn’s slurred voice had his thoughts snapping back, eyes finding Zayn’s. His brow furrowed, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Liam, what’s…you look like you’re having an epiphany.”

“We’re together,” Liam blurted.

Zayn frowned severely. “I hope so Liam. I’ve not been leading you on and it doesn’t feel like _you’ve_ been leading _me_ on.”

“No,” Liam interrupted, shaking his head. “I mean, we – you and I – are _together_. Like we were.”

If he’d expected Zayn to join him in his panicked state, Liam was sorely disappointed. If anything, Zayn turned resigned, hunkering down a little. “I know,” he confessed, crawling down the bed and hauling his rucksack up. He upended it onto the bed, Liam blankly flicking through the items. “Luke made it clear to me last night.”

Liam paused in his rolling of a lighter. “Made what clear?”

Zayn sighed, eyes big and doe-like. “Liam…this is everything I had at my flat. Luke told me to take it and go.”

Liam hissed sharply. “Your flatmates kicked you out?”

“What? No! You’re missing the point,” Zayn grumbled, pointing at the items spread between them. “Liam, _look_.”

Liam did. For a couple of minutes he didn’t realise what he was seeing but when he did, the air was abruptly punched out of his lungs, eyes flying to his own chest of drawers. Drawers where he knew Zayn’s jeans were, his boxers, his scarves and beanies. The wardrobe where his dress shirts hung alongside his slacks, shoes haphazardly stacked underneath. Liam swallowed thickly, his peripheral vision catching movement as Zayn jittered tersely.

“We’ve been living together.”

“For over two months now,” Zayn confirmed, own phone in hand and picking at one of the corners. “I…I worked it out last night.”

“ _Christ_ ,” Liam muttered, running a hand down his face. “And…and your roommates kicked you out because of it?”

“Already said they didn’t,” Zayn reminded him, flipping open his wallet and handing him some money, making Liam’s head cock to the side. “They merely pointed out to me that I was paying rent for a place I didn’t live in and _maybe_ I shouldn’t be a freeloader and should start pitching in here.” Liam went to protest when Zayn rolled his eyes. “Liam, you’ve complained about my showers often enough. Your water bill must have spiked.”

Liam laughed, the sound dispelling any tenseness in the air between them. He took the money, knowing he’d made the right choice when Zayn’s shoulders loosened, sloping smile appearing on his face. Liam tossed the cash onto the bedside table before grasping Zayn’s upper arm, hauling him into his lap. Zayn squawked in alarm before pouting down at him.

“ _Liam_ ,” he whined, “That wasn’t nice.”

“Maybe not.” He nuzzled at the soft skin behind Zayn’s ear, grinning when Zayn shivered. “But still, Zayn, we _live_ together.”

“I know,” Zayn whispered, turning so he could press their foreheads together. “Is that…is that okay?”

“Do we really have any grounds to stand on if we say no? We’ve already been doing it for so long.” Liam manoeuvred Zayn off him before straddling him. “But, since we’re both actually aware of it now, maybe we should get more space? I mean, I fit me in here fine but _both_ of us…” Zayn’s breath hitched but Liam wasn’t done. “And…when you left Louis’ flat, you took a lot of stuff with you. I haven’t seen it again.”

“It’s in storage,” Zayn revealed, eyes a tad whimsical at the memory of some of the items.

“Then, let’s get them out,” Liam suggested, capturing Zayn’s lips momentarily. “Lease runs out in June; it’s April now. We talk this through, we commit, and then we go looking.”

Zayn’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “We…we’re getting our own flat?” He licked his lips. “We’ve never had that.”

Liam snorted at that. “I think seven years is long enough to start, don’t you?”

Zayn didn’t bother replying; not verbally anyway. His chief response was to lean up and smash their lips together, Liam smiling widely before beginning to kiss back fervently. Prying Zayn’s lips open, Liam traced every inch he could, tongue running across molars, brushing against Zayn’s, committing every bit to the rather extensive memories he already had of Zayn. Zayn’s hands bunched together in the front of his sleep shirt, Liam using one of his to cup Zayn’s cheek and angle him ever so slightly, pressing them impossibly closer together.

He didn’t pull away until Zayn was panting for breath, lips swollen and bruised, hair mussed to within an inch of its life. Liam was pretty sure his own chest had a couple of telling red lines where Zayn’s fingernails had dug in. Letting Zayn up, Liam watched as his boyfriend attempted to tame his hair with his fingers before padding over to the bathroom.

“I’ve gotta get some things for school,” Zayn called over his shoulder, “And I’d rather do it now cause I’m lazy as fuck in the afternoons but…” His head popped back into the room, Liam caught off guard by the nervous twist in his expression. “I…Maybe you should invite Lou’ for lunch? He…I think he’d want to hear about this.” Zayn gestured to the room vaguely. “And sooner rather than later, you know?”

Liam nodded, unplugging his phone from the wall as Zayn emerged from the bathroom, hair a little more controlled and reefing through the drawers. Two minutes later he was gone and Liam was still mucking about on his phone. Yes, Zayn and Louis were talking again but it wasn’t _entirely_ friendly. They didn’t snap or snipe at each other but there was something underneath that said they weren’t quite at peace. Liam still visited the flat twice a week. Zayn was lucky to come round once a fortnight and even then it was usually on the tail end of one of Liam’s visits, meaning he never had to stay long. It was only time that could fix this, just as it was only time that had _caused_ it to become so bad.

Sucking it up, Liam pressed _call_ , a little spark of relief shooting through him when he remembered that Georgia would be at Eleanor’s this weekend. While she would probably be the perfect buffer, it also meant that Louis would have to mask his true feelings for her sake and, at this point, it seemed to Liam that he and Zayn were on the same page and really just wanted everything out in the open.

 _“Liam!”_ Louis’ voice bounced into his ear, shrill and bright. _“How are we?”_

“Good, good,” Liam chuckled, before scratching at his cheek nervously. “Uh…did you wanna pop round for lunch? Like-”

_“Harry and I would love to. Bye!”_

The line went dead and Liam stared at it incredulously. Okay, what was that? Something akin to dread told him he’d probably find out over lunch.

Dragging himself out of bed, Liam scrubbed up as best he could, tossed Zayn’s belongings back into his rucksack and put the kettle on, waiting for Zayn’s imminent return. As he set about pulling cups down, Liam wondered just _how_ Zayn had waltzed back into his life so blasely.

 

_“Hey, my flatmates are being noisy shit heads, can I do my planning at yours?”_

_“Zayn, it’s raining. I’m taking the car to keep my work dry, may as well drop you off on the way.”_

_“You have training. Teach me how to say “your child is a fucking pain in the arse” without using_ any _of those words.”_

_“I’m going to gym but if you want, I’ll come past at lunch and drop off the spare key. Let yourself in. You know where everything is.”_

 

Huh. It had probably gone something like that, Liam surmised.

There was then a knock on his door and Liam frowned, checking the time against his watch. Zayn had a key so why was he knocking? Opening the door, Liam’s jaw dropped open at the sight of Louis and Harry.

“Jesus Lou’, did you _run_ here?”

“No,” Louis sniffed, a little _too_ defensively, arms crossed tightly as Harry nudged him inside. “Just…”

“You never invite us to lunch,” Harry provided, looking torn between excited and concerned. “We wanted to make sure-”

“-that I was okay,” Liam finished. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t touched. “No, I’m fine. I actually just wanted to tell you something.”

Harry looked like he was about to ask what but from Louis’ face, he already knew. He knew from the definitely Zayn’s jacket hung over the back of the dining room chair, the phone charger plugged in next to kettle in addition to the one next to the bed, the pile of marking stacked on the coffee table.

Louis’ voice was carefully blank when he spoke. “How long?”

“Officially? An hour. Unofficially?” Liam turned in time to see Zayn shrug, shoulders peeking out from the edge of his tank. “About two months.”

Louis’ eyes widened and Harry let out a long breath. Liam shot Zayn a mildly disapproving look but Zayn merely countered him with a cheeky smile and _god dammit_ he was too attractive for Liam to do anything but smile. Zayn’s eyebrows then shot up at something before he gave Louis a feral grin.

“Your boy got an ink fetish? ‘Cause it looks like he does to me.”

Harry quickly snapped his mouth shut at Louis’ scandalised sound, hastily staring at his toes rather than the expanse of ink over Zayn’s arms. Oh. Zayn’s _exposed_ arms.

“You’ve never seen Zayn in short sleeves, have you Harry?” Liam asked, adding a casual edge to rile Louis just a tad. “He’s always been in jumpers when you’ve seen him.”

Zayn cackled, sliding under Liam’s arm and tucking himself under Liam’s chin. He peered up at Harry through his eyelashes. “I could take off my tank, show you _everything_.”

“Stop it,” Liam chided as Harry choked.

Louis snapped a possessive hand around Harry’s wrist before suddenly a light went off in his head. “Oh shit, yeah, Harry, you haven’t _seen_. Check out this shit!” They were all caught off balance when Louis bounded forward, yanking Zayn out of Liam’s arms and spinning him. Louis then proceeded to stab a finger into Zayn’s bicep…with probably a little more force than was necessary but probably also as much as Zayn deserved. “Harry, _look!_ He fucking got Liam tattoo-ed on him.”

 _“W-what?!”_ Harry squeaked, tripping over his feet in his haste to join them, Liam swearing his pupils dilated at the sight. “When?” he asked hoarsely.

“Years ago now,” Zayn murmured, rubbing a hand over the ink lovingly, stepping back into the safety of Liam’s arms. “Just after he proposed.” Liam kissed his cheek and Zayn sighed contentedly. He then winked at Harry. “Could do you one of Louis, if you’d like.”

“Fucking hell Malik, no!” Louis objected, gripping Harry’s chin and turning it towards him so their eyes met. “Don’t you even _think_ about it. Marriage I could handle. My face on your body, I couldn’t. That’s too far.” He scoffed at Liam. “Don’t know how you do it Payno. Do you get off on yourself?”

“Get’s off on how clear it is that I’m _his_ ,” Zayn shot back, haughty and prideful and possessive in a way that made Liam’s skin heat up.

Louis barked out a laugh, Harry looking well out of his depth now and Liam almost wanted to pull him aside and explain to him that this was _normal_ , that this was how Louis and Zayn interactions actually went in general. “Bet the neighbours have lodged a couple of complaints then,” Louis teased, Liam going rigid because that… “God knows I wanted to sometimes.”

“Louis, that’s-” “We-”

Liam and Zayn started at the same time before abruptly dropping off, both edging away from each other until there was a measurable distance between them. Harry made a little ‘ _oh_ ’ sound, Louis’ taking a little longer, eyebrows scrunching together before his shoulders slumped, wincing.

“Fuck, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t…you two haven’t…you don’t…”

“Not your business,” Zayn ground out, staring very firmly at the wall to their left.

“Zayn, it’s okay,” Liam assured, hand making the movement of brushing his back but never actually touching; a phantom touch that soothed Zayn when physical contact proved too overwhelming.

“Shit guys, I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, suddenly looking a lot younger than his twenty-eight-years. “That…you’re right, it’s _not_ my business and last time it was it was because it all went to pieces so yeah, you, uh…just keep at your own pace, right? I wasn’t…”

“You weren’t taking the piss,” Zayn said, finally turning and giving Louis a tight smile. “Don’t worry, we get it. Besides, weren’t it you that wouldn’t fuck Harry because you liked him too much?”

Louis gaped before, _“Liam!”_

_“Zayn!”_

“What?” Zayn drawled, the first genuine smile appearing when Liam dug his fingers into the dip of his hip. “Aren’t friends supposed to reveal each other’s shit?”

“Not in front of their fiancés!” Louis cried.

“ _Especially_ in front of their fiancés,” Zayn said playfully, slipping away from Liam’s grasp and attempting to duck away from Louis. What he hadn’t counted on was Harry; Harry who was apparently now comfortable enough to wrap an arm around Zayn’s waist before messing up his hair.

Silence descended, Harry’s smile dropping.

“Did I…?”

 _“You fucking piece of shit!”_ Zayn screeched, hands flying to his hair in disbelief.

“Zayn, language,” Liam scolded, pulling him away before he could thump Harry, soothing him with little kisses and soft whispers.

“Ignore Mister Drama King,” Louis said loudly, lips smacking against Harry’s jaw. “He’s precious when it comes to his hair. Thinks it’s God’s gift to humanity, as it were.”

Zayn’s pout only deepened and, really, under such a look, no one was able to keep a straight face. After the laughter died down, Harry opened his arms, beckoning Zayn in for a hug for the first time ever. Zayn actually looked to Liam in fear before tentatively snuffling over. The second Harry drew him in though, Zayn melted and Liam had to admit he knew why. Harry’s hugs were like being wrapped in warm marshmallow. Zayn had then swapped to Louis’ arms and they held each other tightly before pulling away; if their eyes were a little damp, no one mentioned it. They _did_ end up eating lunch together, though they’d vouched for ordering Indian from around the corner rather than cooking. On their way out of the door, Louis had snagged Liam’s wrist, voice soft, for his ears only:

“Li’, thank you for telling me. And you know what? I’m happy for you, genuinely happy for you. Good luck Payno.”

 

***

 

Of course, now that Louis had put it out there, Liam couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it. Couldn’t stop thinking about the way Zayn’s skin had used to feel under him, the sounds he’d used to make as Liam thrust into him, the way his kisses would be punctuated with breathy moans, the bend of his back as he’d come, crying out Liam’s name. And, if the way Zayn was sending him hooded looks whenever he thought Liam wasn’t looking was anything to go by, Zayn’s line of thought was much the same. It was just…Liam didn’t know how to bring it up. _Did_ he even bring it up at all? Did he just let it happen? Did either of them even _want_ it to happen?

Or maybe it would happen the same way everything had been happening between them lately: accidentally and yet naturally.

Maybe it would happen in the way that Zayn would push open the door, arms laden with Chinese take-away containers, only to have his expression turn stony at the pizza boxes Liam had sitting on the bench.

“Told you I’d pick up dinner tonight,” Zayn said flatly, dumping the containers down.

“Sorry, forgot about that,” Liam replied, which was true. “We can put it in the fridge, yeah? Have it tomorrow?”

Zayn leant back against the bench, eyes narrowing. “Why don’t we fridge _your_ pizza and eat my food?”

“Pizza doesn’t taste good reheated.”

“Neither does Chinese.”

Liam rolled his eyes, attempting to bump Zayn away from the cutlery drawer only to be met with resistance. “Zayn, come _on_. We’re not going to fight about Sunday night take-away when tomorrow’s a bank holiday.”

Zayn studied his nail beds in a bored fashion. “Aren’t we?” There was something glinting in his eyes, but Liam couldn’t quite make it out.

Instead he huffed, nudging Zayn a little bit harder. “Babe, please. Move, alright?”

“Make me.”

It was a taunt, accompanied by a cocky eyebrow raise and it instantly became clear to Liam what that little spark in his eyes had been. It had been so long since he’d seen it that he’d nearly not recognised it. He did though, and it had him grinning wolfishly. Zayn returned it, teeth flashing as he smiled, all too satisfied when Liam surged forward, pinning him against the bench and kissing him passionately. Zayn licked into his mouth, moaning when Liam’s thigh slipped between his legs. A change in angle from Liam had Zayn’s breath hitching, lips breaking off as he rutted against Liam’s thigh.

“ _Gorgeous_ ,” Liam breathed, mouthing at Zayn’s neck, leaving the tiniest of marks in a clear trail.

Zayn’s hands were scrabbling at his back, ineffectively pawing at his shirt, Liam returning the favour and sliding his hands under Zayn’s tee. The muscles of Zayn’s abdomen rippled under his touch, hips continuing to cant forward in their own little rhythm. Grip firm, Liam pulled Zayn away from the counter and back towards the bed, never letting their lips part for more than a second. He made it to the end of the bed before he gave in, pressing Zayn against the wall, kisses sloppier, messier as they focused on Zayn’s collarbones, the curve of his neck. Zayn’s grip of his shirt had slackened but it didn’t stop Liam sliding his fingers to the fly on Zayn’s jeans, thumbing at the button. No, what stopped him was the whined,

_“Li’…”_

Because that, _fuck!_ Liam leapt away as if scalded, heart in his throat because that _wasn’t_ Zayn’s aroused voice. No, that was his terrified voice, the one that only slipped out when he was on the verge of panic. Even now, Liam could see his eyes were brimming with tears, fingernails digging into the delicate skin of his palms.

“Shit, baby, _no_ ,” Liam gushed, hands hovering awkwardly, unsure of where was or wasn’t okay to touch. “Zayn, _please_ , what’s wrong?”

Zayn squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders shaking. “…scared,” he eventually managed to gasp out.

“Scared?” Liam repeated, lead dropping into his stomach because what had he done? What on earth had he done to make Zayn so frightened of him? “Why are you scared?”

Zayn’s knees threatened to buckle but a hand flattened against the wall, holding him up. “Don’t…I don’t want to hurt you.” Liam blinked in confusion as Zayn’s eyes sung haunted. “We…last time we…Last time we were here _I_ hurt you Liam, hurt you _so_ bad. And I, I…I’m scared I’ll hurt you again. I don’t…I _can’t_ hurt you Liam. Don’t want to.”

Liam was pulling Zayn in even as he started sobbing into his chest and _Jesus_ , was it possible to get PTSD from a break-up because it would honestly explain a lot of Zayn’s peculiar nuances of late – the increased panic attacks, the rise in cigarette consumption, the ease in which he was now startled. Giving Zayn a minute, Liam tentatively hooked a hand under his chin. “Zayn, we don’t _have_ to do this. We _never_ have to do this again if you don’t want to. But, if you _want_ to and you want to make sure you don’t hurt me, there’s only one thing you need to do.”

Zayn was nodding furiously, looking so, so desperate that Liam couldn’t help but press their lips together.

“Be here when I wake up. That’s all you need to do babe.”

Zayn let out a _whoosh_ of air before shifting entirely into his personal space. “I can do that,” he promised, hands scrubbing away his tears before dropping to Liam’s belt. “I’ll be here, stay here, as long as you need me.” His hands hesitated once more, eyes hopeful when they looked up at Liam. “Can we…slow? Can we do it slow tonight?”

Liam bumped their noses together. “Of course we can.” He then added in a sinful whisper, “Gonna open you up with my fingers so slow that you’ll be ready to come before I’m even inside you, okay? Going to keep you on the brink until you can’t think of anything except the way I feel inside you.”

Zayn shuddered, eyes blown as he pulled away and his usual personality starting to creep back in. “Fuck Liam,” he muttered, dragging his own clothes off, tucking something into the pocket of his jeans before stepping out of them. “You can’t just _say_ that,” he insisted as he slammed their lips together. “You, Liam Payne, are not allowed to say things like that. What would your mother say?”

“She knows you corrupted me a long time ago,” Liam countered, gently pushing Zayn onto the bed before working at removing his own clothes, not unaware of the way Zayn was watching every movement ravenously. Discarding his briefs, cock slapping against his stomach, Liam crawled onto the bed, hovering over Zayn. “This okay?”

“Very okay,” Zayn replied, hissing when Liam kissed the pair of lips inked onto his chest. Liam allowed himself a smirk, knowing it had always been one of Zayn’s spots, an easy way to unravel him. His tongue laved at the spot, Zayn writhing underneath his ministrations, hands twisting in the sheets. “ _Liam_ ,” he keened, hips vainly searching for friction. “Li’, _please_.”

Liam soothed him with a kiss, one hand toying with Zayn’s blond locks as the other came to cup the bulge in his briefs. Zayn groaned at the touch, bucking up into Liam’s hand, gasping for more into his mouth amongst all the breathy kisses. Slipping his hand inside, Liam revelled in the weight of Zayn’s cock in his palm, the way Zayn grinded into him, begged, pleaded. Making sure to pay particular attention to each of Zayn’s tattoos, and perhaps a nipple or two, Liam finally reached his destination, pulling Zayn’s briefs down, hearing him nearly sob with relief as his cock sprang free from its confinements.

“Li’, shit, please don’t,” Zayn whimpered as Liam blew on the head of his cock. As Liam leant back and sent him a questioning look, Zayn shook his head weakly. “Not going to last. Please Liam, want you in me.”

“Okay,” Liam breathed, swallowing because yeah, that sounded good. He fumbled around for some lube and a condom, slicking up his fingers before pressing his thumb against Zayn’s entrance. “It’s going to hurt,” he reminded over Zayn’s sharp intake. “You haven’t done this in awhile.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what it feels like when you’re inside,” Zayn said, throwing his head back when Liam started to ease a finger in. “Okay, yeah, tight, _shit_.”

“Need me to stop?” Liam asked, finger stationary at one knuckle deep.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Zayn warned, impatiently rocking his hips up, jerking Liam into action. With a sharp ‘ _ah!_ ’, Liam had him stilling, pinning his hips down and easing his finger in more. He let Zayn get used to the size, the drag of his finger in and out, before he added the second, not lying when he muttered something about Zayn being absolutely beautiful. Zayn had whined something along the same lines, hands running up and down his arms, clutching at his shoulders whenever Liam went that little bit deeper, stretched him that little bit more. He cried out when Liam’s fingers curled just so, Liam mercilessly rubbing at Zayn’s prostrate until Zayn was bordering on blissed out, only then deciding to add the third finger, Zayn not even making a grunt at the added stretch.

“Liam,” he gasped, tensing up as Liam grazed that spot, clenching around Liam’s fingers, making him swear at the tightness. “Please Liam, _please_.”

“You wanted slow.”

“Slow not torture.”

Liam acquiesced, removing his fingers as he tore open the condom wrapper. Sliding it over his length, Liam was shifting back between Zayn’s legs when a hand came to settle over his heart. Looking up, Liam froze at the tears that were once again in Zayn’s eyes. Before he could question it, Zayn’s hand was moving, coming to settle on his cheek instead. He basically sobbed the words, so pure and raw:

_“I love you.”_

Liam’s own eyes started to prick. “You…”

“Always. I love you. Liam, I love you _so_ much. I couldn’t…I _never_ want to do this with anyone but you. You’re it Liam.”

“The one?” Liam choked out, mimicking a conversation they’d had hundreds of times.

“The best,” Zayn confirmed, smiling through his tears. “I’ll _always_ love you.”

“I love you too,” Liam whispered, leaning down so he could kiss Zayn properly, suck at his bottom lip, pour his very soul into this man’s mouth. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

Zayn whined and that, _that_ was the aroused one Liam was familiar with. Locking their eyes together, Liam ever so slowly started to push in. Zayn’s breath caught as the head met resistance, eyes fluttering shut when it finally eased inside. Giving him a moment to adjust, Liam let himself bask in the mantra of “ _Li’, Li’, Li_ ’,” Zayn was stammering out, heart threatening to explode in his chest. Every inch brought an extra notch in volume until he was bottomed out and Zayn was a shaking mess under him.

“Liam, _Liam please_ ,” Zayn cried, eyes fever bright. “Please Li’, _move_.”

Liam only spared the second it took to kiss the inside of Zayn’s knee before pulling out, Zayn exhaling loudly at the drag. He then pushed back in and it was like they had fallen back together. Zayn’s shout of his name echoed around the flat and Liam lost himself in the tight heat of Zayn’s body, in the way they fit now just as they always had. He increased the speed of his thrusts, pushing Zayn’s thighs apart so he could reach that deeper point, watching Zayn’s spine curve obscenely as his prostrate was hit, pleasure rocketing through his body. Zayn’s hips bucked up to meet Liam each time, hands bunched up in the pillow over his head, looking so thoroughly debauched, a royal air to him somehow. Any connection he had towards a royal illusion was shattered though the second Liam wrapped a hand around his cock and the room become filled with a cacophony of,

“Oh fuck, _shit!_...ugh, _fuck_ , Li’… _Liam_ , fucking hell babe…I… _fuck!”_

The way that last obscenity keened at the end told Liam that Zayn was close, right on the edge, and Liam was right there beside him, cock throbbing as it slid in and out of Zayn. He gave his hand a twist, completely entranced up the way it took Zayn apart, eyes shutting, hips jerking, mouth open in a silent cry as his orgasm ripped through him. Zayn’s come splattered across his chest, coated Liam’s fingers, and Zayn watched it all with hungry eyes, grin impish when Liam glanced up at him.

“Come on babe, come for me.” The words were accompanied by Zayn clenching around him and Liam was flung over the edge, load shooting into the rubber and his hands coming to settle on Zayn’s chest as his vision faded at the edges. “Beautiful Li’,” Zayn was muttering, palming at his back, rubbing his sides. “You’re always so beautiful Liam. Love the way you look, the way you feel, your face when you come. Love…well, I love you, really.”

Liam lifted his head enough to kiss Zayn once more, meeting no resistance. “Love you too.” He pulled out gingerly, breathing out apologies when Zayn grimaced in discomfort. Padding to the bathroom and quickly cleaning them both up, Liam settled in beside Zayn. “Too early for bed or…?”

“What kind of question is that?” Zayn snorted. “You know I worship sleep.”

“You do,” Liam agreed, turning out the light. He was all set to roll over and close his eyes when Liam noticed the somewhat stiff edge to Zayn’s frame. After the confession he’d made earlier, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Which was why, despite their usual desire for space in bed, Liam chose to roll over, one arm coming to wrap around Zayn’s chest, a leg coming to settle between Zayn’s.

“…thank you.”

Liam smiled. “You’re welcome.”

 

***

 

They’d gone from strength to strength, meshing together into the power couple Louis had always said they were. Their lives folded back together, synchronised in the way they were always meant to. Liam and Zayn became exactly that: Liam _and_ Zayn. They appeared together at the flat, left hand-in-hand, took Georgia out together whenever Harry and Louis went on dates, did pub crawls with Niall because they didn’t have the commitment of a small child. Zayn no longer snuck into Liam’s football games, rather strode in boldly at his boyfriend’s side, shooting condescending looks at the opposing teams, only breaking face to smile whenever Niall turned up in the opposition’s midst. If anyone noticed Zayn’s eighteen-month absence – they all had, they weren’t fucking blind – they made the wise choice of not bringing it up.

The pair had even started flat-hunting. It was a bizarre experience in itself, looking at properties that could potentially be their own. Zayn had never known that microwaves being in the shelves rather than on the bench could be such a turn-off, nor had Liam been aware that pillows for sofas had to be exactly matching until he and Zayn had argued over it _very_ loudly in Ikea. They’d stumbled through life so far on gifted or pre-bought furniture; choosing their own was almost some sort of garish nightmare. There’d been one day in which Liam had thought they’d found the perfect apartment, situated halfway between Louis’ flat and both their workplaces and – the real kicker – it had allowed _pets_. The second bedroom, tiny and box-like, would have been Zayn’s art studio…had the real estate agent not called him back the next day and said the flat was no longer available. Liam had wanted to fight but had instead sunk into Zayn’s arms with a pathetic sniffle. Zayn had held him close and petted his hair before tossing away the rest of flat brochures, giving them some space for a time.

With the end of school year approaching, Zayn was swamped with work and had had to stay back more than a few times, apologising profusely to Liam every time he had to reschedule. Liam had assured him it was fine, spending the free hours at Louis’ instead because Louis was currently alternating between ‘e _h, there’s still a few months before the wedding_ ’ and ‘ _fucking hell, only a few months until the wedding?!_ ’ A perfectionist by nature, Louis was devoting everything he had into getting this right, from exact flower placement within the bouquets to which precise shade of teal the girls would be wearing. Liam felt like his brain was going to explode sometimes but Harry seemed content enough to amble along with Louis’ ideas, patient enough to calm him when he started to stress. Liam couldn’t say it enough; Louis and Harry were perfect for each other.

June arrived somewhere in amongst all the hustle and bustle and Liam didn’t think he’d seen a calendar in days when he was distracted from his work emails by a text.

_Mr Payne,_   
_Regarding apartment 31A, new buyer would like to meet with you to discuss arrangements. Buyer would like to meet at 4:15P.M. today, if time would suit._

There was a name at the bottom but Liam barely spared it a glance, hastily trying to remember what apartment 31A even was. His thumbs then froze over the keys because that…that…that was the one. _The one_. The one he had wanted so, so badly. He re-read the text, then once more, called Zayn, got his voicemail, read it again. Okay, he wasn’t misinterpreting it. They really did want him there, wanted to discuss and did that…Was that a sign that he might be able to bargain his way in?

Begging with his manager to get out early, Liam paused in one of the corridors, calling Zayn again. “Babe, I know you’re working,” he said once the voicemail tone ended, smile on his face from Zayn’s infamous ‘ _vas happenin’?_ ’ greeting, “But Zee, they want us to look at the flat again, the one we loved. Can you be there at four today? I _need_ you to be there at four today. Thanks babe, love you.”

Hanging up, Liam took several calming breaths, returning to his desk and dropping into his chair. He’d been contemplating texting Louis before a colleague popped their head in the door. “Liam,” they called absently, not even looking up from their iPad. “Is it the eighth or ninth today?”

And just like that, it was as though icy water had been dumped on him, the colour draining from his face. He clearly took too long answer, his workmate stomping away with a huff but Liam didn’t care because he suddenly knew what day it was. The ninth, it was the ninth. The ninth of June. Exactly two years since he’d come home only to find Zayn packed and ready to go, engagement ring already off his finger, ready to be handed over. Exactly one year since he’d called in sick and curled up in his bed, begging Zayn not to text him that day because he wouldn’t have been able to handle it; he hadn’t, small mercies and all.

“Jesus Christ,” Liam muttered, digging the heel of his hands into his eyes and willing himself not to break down at his work desk.

He managed until three-thirty, clocking out and riding the tube over to Chancery Lane. There was radio silence from Zayn and Liam firmly told himself it was nothing. _Yes_ , Zayn’s class had finished for the day, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still working. Part of him cruelly jeered that Zayn had left him, that everything they’d worked for for the last six months had been in vain, but Liam refused to believe it. Zayn was _busy_ , that’s all it was.

Reaching the block of flats just before four, Liam hovered on the doorstep before stepping into the entry. A pristine looking woman, hair swept back immaculately, was already waiting inside. _Charlotte Yu_ , her nametag read.

“Mr Payne?” she asked, extending a hand.

“Yes, that’s me,” Liam said, quickly taking the hand and shaking it politely. “Liam is fine though.”

“Perfect then Liam. I’m Charlotte and I’ll be assisting you today.” She flicked through her folder, tapping at the top of the page while Liam did his best not to fidget. “I see here it says you already applied for this property but you were rejected. Apparently another party showed a more keen interest.”

Liam fought back the bitterness in his voice. “That’s right.”

“Hmm, I see.” She looked as though she was trying not to smile, which was odd. “Did you come here with the other party?”

“What? No.” What kind of question even was that? “No, I came here with my partner. We never met anyone else.”

Charlotte nodded sagely. “Okay Liam, it looks as though an offer has been made for you to share the flat.” Liam’s mind went blank. “There is a contract here for two names to be put on the lease; one has already been signed. There is a blank spot left for you. If you sign it, you will co-share the flat.”

“Sorry,” Liam interjected, voice steely. “But I don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m looking for a flat to share with my _boyfriend_ , not a random stranger. I’m sorry, but I think you’re wasting your time.”

“I was told you might say that,” Charlotte voiced as Liam began to storm away. It made him frown, turning back around. She was definitely smiling when she said, “Perhaps you should hear the name of your flatmate; he seemed to speak very highly of you.” She blinked down at where the first signature undoubtedly sat. “Does _Zayn Malik_ sound familiar to you?”

 _“Z-Zayn?”_ Liam stuttered, flying back to the agent’s side, her laugh kind as she showed him the contract which…yes, that was Zayn’s signature. “He…”

“He wanted this flat for a long time,” Charlotte murmured. “Said as soon as he saw it he knew it was right but…apparently he had to wait.”

Wait? Whatever for? And what had Zayn meant by the timing wasn’t right? And, as soon as he’d seen it? Did that mean that even when he’d been holding Liam, consoling him, he’d already _known_ he had the flat in his name? Liam needed answers and he needed them _now_.

“Where do I sign?” he demanded, not even cehcking to see if he’d signed on the line before he bolted for the stairs. He nearly bowled someone over on the way up, paying them no more attention than a hasty “ _sorry!_ ” until…

“Uh oh, Zayn, he’s early and looks fucking pissed!”

Liam whirled around and got the barest glimpse of Niall before the Irishman winked, slinking out of sight, laughter echoing in the stairwell. A little more slowly now, Liam walked over to the flat, pushing the door open and leaving it there, Zayn nowhere in sight.

“Zayn?”

“Liam – _fuck!_ – shut the door!”

Liam hastily did as asked, no sooner having done so when a loud _tic-tic-tac_ staccato come from the same direction as Zayn’s voice. The next thing Liam knew, a grey and black flash of _something_ was crashing into his legs. Liam stumbled back into the door, looking down in shock, breath catching when he realised that the _something_ in question was actually a _puppy_. A full of energy, clearly hyped up puppy. Liam crouched down, laughing breathlessly when the dog scrambled onto his knees, desperately trying to lick his face.

“Hey there,” Liam cooed, rubbing the thing’s ears adoringly. “Who are you?”

“Doesn’t have a name yet.” Liam looked up to find Zayn squatted down opposite him, smiling but so clearly anxious, attempting to gauge Liam’s reaction. “Got him from the pound. They said his name was _Triumph_ but that’s just stupid. He’s a klee kai, in case you’re wondering.”

“He’s amazing is what he is,” Liam murmured, giggling when his nose was then licked. Over the dog’s head, Zayn’s own nose was scrunched up in disgust. “He trying to escape?”

“So Niall said.” Zayn had a wicked grin on his face now. “Apparently it was hell to get him here. Nearly gave Niall the slip more than once.”

“Trickster huh?” Liam asked, being victimised by two big blue eyes. “How about Loki then? Is that a good name, boy? Loki?” The puppy barked so Liam counted it as official.

Zayn rolled his eyes but it was all fondness, Liam could tell. As Loki continued to snuffle around his feet, Zayn gnawed at his bottom lip, holding up a hand when Liam went to speak. He then grasped the pendant under his shirt, Liam watching the movement attentively. Zayn followed his line of sight, smiling somewhat sadly. He then took a deep breath.

“Can I tell you the most amazing thing I’ve ever had someone say to me?”

Liam frowned, because that _wasn’t_ where he’d expected Zayn to go. He hadn’t really known _where_ Zayn was going to go, but that wasn’t it. “Um, sure.”

“Zayn Javadd Malik-” Liam started upon realising Zayn was referring to himself and then a hand came to clap over his mouth because he knew, he _knew_. “-You are the most incredible person I have ever met. I never believed in love at first sight, in fact I still don’t, but you drew me in from the first time I ever saw you. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. I love you, and every day I fall in love with you a little more; with your smile, your eyes, the way you laugh, the way you brood, the sullen look you get when angry, your pout when being teased…yeah, that look.” Zayn demonstrated said look, much as he had all those years ago. “I couldn’t imagine doing life without you and I…I honestly believe you feel the same.” There was a stumble there that hadn’t been there the first time. “And so, if you’d have me, I’d like to love you for the rest of my life. I want to wake up beside you every day, I want to complain to you, I want to bicker with you over stupid things, want to love you like no one else. Zayn Javadd Malik, will you marry me?”

Zayn pulled the necklace over his head, holding it between them and Liam touched it with shaking fingers all too aware of what it was now, what Zayn had been holding onto. “You…you kept it.”

“I could never let you go Li’,” Zayn whispered thickly, carefully tipping the ring into Liam’s palm. “It’s with you, where it always deserves to be.”

“No, it’s yours.” Liam’s grip on the metal tightened nonetheless. “And you…you remembered it? You remembered my proposal? Every word. Zayn, you knew _every word._ ”

“How could I forget it?” He wrapped his hand over Liam’s. “I…I have my own planned.”

Liam’s head snapped up. “ _You…_ ”

“Think it’s my turn.” Zayn shuffled closer, scowling good-naturedly when Loki chose that moment to bump into his side. “Because I want to marry you Liam, I’ve wanted to a long time now. Just had to find the right time to ask. So I-”

“Don’t.”

Zayn’s body went dead stiff, blood draining from his face. “ _Li’…_ ”

“Not like that! Not like that!” Liam was quick to scoop Zayn into his arms, peppering his face with kisses. “Dammit Zayn, not like that. I mean…what you said, what you’ve _done_ , Zayn…it’s enough.”

“Wanna say it,” Zayn protested.

“Save it?” Liam requested. “I know I’m being selfish but _Zayn_ , new flat, new dog, what you just did…Babe, _whatever_ you said would go straight over my head and I don’t want that. I wanna hear every damn word and I just _can’t_ right now. Can we…instead of swapping traditional vows, can we propose again, make our vows our proposals?”

Zayn blinked at him, contemplative. “You, what, propose for the third time and I do mine?”

“It’ll only be twice,” Liam tutted. “Not my fault you had to quote me. But yes, can we do that?”

Zayn bit his cheek indecisively before taking the ring out of Liam’s hand, unclasping the chain and dropping it to the floor. He then slid the ring onto Liam’s finger, kissing the knuckle once it was on. “Only if from today on I can call you my fiancé.”

Liam didn’t answer with words but Zayn got the message cloud and clear nonetheless.

 

***

 

“Well, well, well,” Louis crowed, eyes dancing as they turned to where Harry was leaning over the stove.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, sparing a cursory glance at Louis’ phone screen but not really taking anything in.

“Oh, nothing,” Louis said airily, making Harry’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Only Liam saying Zayn just proposed to him.”

_“What?!”_

The shout bounced off the walls and Louis face split into an ear-to-ear grin. “Now love, aren’t you happy we didn’t have the wedding in May? Would have stolen their thunder a bit, would have looked like we inspired Zayn to pop the question.”

Harry flipped off the stove, turning very slowly to Louis who looked all too much like the cat who’d caught the canary. “You little shit!” he gasped. “You knew! _You fucking knew!_ ”

Louis could neither confirm or deny such claims, texting Liam back quickly before Harry backed him into the bedroom. Finally, finally, things were as they should be.

 

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there were times when I thought the ending here was too similar to that of Flour and Chocolate but in the end it felt /right/ so I decided to keep it. I actually really enjoyed putting Zayn and Liam back together and I hope you enjoyed it too. ^-^ Thank you to everyone who's left comments and kudos along the way; I say it all the time but they really do mean a lot! .xx Dan
> 
> P.S. this never made it into the story but I couldn't leave it out: at some point I imagined Zayn and Liam would have a conversation about their names when they got married and Liam ended up becoming Liam Malik because he wasn't fussed and Zayn absolutely refused to be Zayn Payne, on account of the fact that it made him sound like "a sub-par superhero alter-ego name". XD


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